


Without Love

by photicsneeze



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette for plot purposes, Akumatized Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Bisexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Chloé Bourgeois Being Chloé Bourgeois, Emotional Instability, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Repression, Endgame Ship Undecided - Freeform, Everyone Loves Marinette Dupain-Cheng, F/F, F/M, Gen, Good Parents Sabine Cheng & Tom Dupain, I'm bad at writing romance, MINOR Lukanette, Marinette deserves love, Seduction, Self-Hatred, Self-Love, Self-Reflection, Slow Burn, THAT's what it's called!, Undecided Relationship(s), but nothing gross happens she is a minor., but tbh it's mostly just sad, kind of salty, minor felinette, minor kagaminette, there are bad words here!!, toxic positivity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2019-11-04 19:37:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17904305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/photicsneeze/pseuds/photicsneeze
Summary: In light of her recent near akumatizations she comes to realize that, as her duty to Paris, Ladybug cannot be compromised at any cost. So Marinette decides that any unnecessary feelings are the price to pay. Neglecting her own emotional health, however, has major consequences, and this is the probably the most manipulative akuma yet.Or, Marinette tries to suppress her negative emotions during stressful times to stop Hawkmoth from targeting her again, but when he does the parts of her that had been neglected demand to make themselves known.





	1. Good Morning Pep Talk

**Author's Note:**

> There are several inspirations for this story. 
> 
> “Nevermore” (TeenTitans, season 1, episode 6)  
> “Inside Out” Pixar  
> “Love me. Love me. Love me. PV [English SUB]” by Kikuo (japanese lyrics)  
> “Aishite Aishite Aishite (English Cover) JubyPhonic 愛して愛して愛して”  
> “Rest and Ricklaxation” (Rick and Morty, season 3 episode 6)  
> "Left Brain, Right Brain” By Bo Burnham  
> “Emotion Commotion” (Fairly Odd Parents, season 4, episode 16)  
> “Idontwannabeyouanymore” by Billie Ellish  
> “BeautyMaker 完美製造機 (Animation)”  
> “My brother’s Keeper” (Danny Phantom, season 1, episode 9)  
> “Chameleon” (Miraculous Ladybug, season 3, episode 1)

"Tell the mirror what you know she's heard before"

\-- Billie Ellish; “Idontwannabeyouanymore"

* * *

 

Marinette shifts from foot to foot in front of her vanity, fisting a little at the thin cotton of her shirt and setting a determined gaze on the azure eyes she meets in the reflection. “It’s gonna be a good- no- a _great_ day today.”

Tikki hovers over her left shoulder expectantly, an encouraging smile and nod in her direction. Marinette continues with a deep breath. “And Lila’s not going to get to me.”

“I’m proud.” A lifted chin.

“I’m confident.” The set of her narrow shoulders.

“I’m Marinette.” And her sweetest smile.

Her enthusiasm almost makes up for the embarrassed flush across her cheeks. Marinette nods to herself, satisfied for the time being, and sits herself down to apply some concealer to the dark half moons under her eyes with an unsteady hand.

* * *

 


	2. Good Sleep

 

 

Marinette finds herself up in time for school, for once, on Thursday. Her doctor the week before had advised her to follow a more consistent sleeping and eating schedule if she wants to grow any taller- and she _really wants_ to grow taller.

And well, that’s a difficult thing to do when she’s one of Paris’ only heroes, and when she also has to force herself to put her personal projects on halt to finish her homework and chores on time. Thankfully, she has Tikki to help her keep on track for the day, no longer allowing Marinette to swat her away for more sleep and unyielding when she would whine. Not all of Ladybug’s stubbornness comes from just Marinette, it seems.

“You’re off to a really good start today.” Tikki praises her, and Marinette receives it with half-hearted grumbles. “You even have time to do your morning routine properly!”

The dark haired girl chuckles as she finishes off a pigtail. “I’m not even sure I remember how, at this point.”

Marinette fumbles at her vanity with her translucent powder, dropping the the whole container on her wood floors and groaning at the crumbs that fall out and the ugly crack splitting across the once smooth surface of the makeup. “Aw, shit.”

“Marinette,” Comes a disapproving voice and Marinette is sure she’d jumped a full foot into the air. Tikki ducks into her bag. “Language.”

Marinette turns around in her seat to see a small chinese woman lift herself through the trap door. “Sorry, Maman.”

“I’m surprised you’re up. I came to wake you and say breakfast is ready downstairs.”

“Thank you! I’ll be right there.” She feels warmth in her heart. Her mother shouldn’t feel obligated to make her breakfast- she knows for a fact that most kids in her class tend to forego breakfast. But Mme. Dupain-Cheng knows her daughter isn’t a morning person and that a good meal to greet her before school is a huge help to her mood. She voices her appreciation.

Tikki makes herself known once again once the mother has left. The trap door is left open, so she keeps her voice low. “Your maman has got the right idea. It’s good to start the day thinking positively.”

Marinette smiles and sighs. “I know, Tikki. I’m sorry, I think things have been getting to me lately. I’ll do better.”

“Try not to worry about it! We all have bad days. Almost everyone in your class has been akumatized once. Some have been twice! Your class in particular attracts a lot of Hawkmoth’s attention. It’s only natural one would eventually try and come for you. I know it’s a lot of pressure that you can’t afford to be akumatized, but that’s why I’m proud that you’re able to handle it so well.”

The teen’s smile becomes a little tired, and she stoops down to clean up the fallen makeup, grateful that there are no stains for her to feel sorry for. She studies the compact closely, blue eyes staring back with dark half moons underneath. Absentmindedly she says, “It’s hard, sometimes.”

“I know it is. But it will get better-- and just think that you’re doing this for the greatest cause! You’re truly amazing, Marinette.” Tikki sinks down and takes in the way her dear holder had dimmed. She wonders if she’d said the right thing when her ladybug doesn’t say anything more. “I think your makeup can wait. How does breakfast sound?”

Ah, there- she had perked up.

“This is the first meal you’ve had in a while that you’ll actually have time to sit down and enjoy.” The little red-headed being giggles. “Instead of running to school with a croissant in your mouth.”

The comment earns a soft chuckle. Marinette knows she’s been neglecting her civilian life- rushing her mornings and plucking breakfast from the table to gobble down on the way to school, falling asleep in class, fighting off akumas, and minimal studying hoping not to fall too behind in class, but also having home chores and wanting to work on her designs. Eating, sleeping, and even showering at times were put  on hold until as late as past midnight or until one of her parents intervened. Marinette feels a pang of guilt for how often her mother has nagged her for not eating with them for dinner as of late. It is disrespectful, and she feels ashamed of herself whenever she gets lectured.

She sighs. “Knowing my luck there’ll be an akuma attack the second I sit down.”

“Positive thoughts!” Tikki nags.

“Right!”

Marinette stuffs her binder, the compact, and tubes of lip gloss and mascara into her bag before heading down the stairs.

There is no akuma attack to interrupt her breakfast. She takes her time spreading jam across a piece of lightly toasted bread, and plops it into her mouth.

She hums, contented. It’s sweet.

* * *

 

A little past noon Marinette is seated in class while the others have gone out for lunch. Tikki murmurs to her from her pouch on her desk only loud enough for her to hear, but feels safe enough to poke her head out every now and then to watch what the girl is doing on her tablet. “Marinette, shouldn’t you go home to eat lunch?”

“Papa packed me lunch today, so I’ll just stay here.”

“Then why don’t you eat lunch with your friends?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time Alya ditched me for Nino,” she mutters. There’s a dip in her mood, but she quickly stomps that feeling back down, realizing she might be saying something really unfair towards her best friend. “Well, I can’t blame her. They’re dating. And I can also use the time to do research.”

Tikki sits up on her butt, the rim of her purse draping over her like a cloak as she nibbles on a biscuit. “Research on what?” she says in between chewing. Marinette resists the urge to squeal at how cute her little friend is.

“You know how Madame has us doing breathing exercises and grounding techniques during gym? I’m researching stress relief and different ways to stay happy and positive.” She sighs, blushing. “Pep talks in front of the mirror are really embarrassing. But they’re supposed to be good. At least some things are basic like sleep, healthy meals, exercise, and hygiene. I’m a little young to have to worry too much about dieting, but I think it wouldn’t hurt to have more fruits and veggies in our meal plans. We sure do eat a lot of bread and sweets.”

“Living in a bakery doesn’t help.” Tikki titters. “You should try looking up some meditation and self hypnotism techniques! Or even ask Master about it. It’s one of his specialties.”

“That sounds great.” Marinette thinks a moment. “Maybe I can get the girls interested too!”

“Yoga and meditation doesn’t sound like a common thing for teen sleepovers, but I think you can make it fun.” Tikki says. Marinette is thankful for her input, but quickly ushers the little one back into her hiding place when she starts to hear voices around the corner. Alya is looking radiant as she comes in hand in hand with her boyfriend, and Marinette can’t help but feel guiltier for her bitter feelings earlier. Nino grumbles about Adrien getting caught up in more modeling business for the rest of the day, and Alya only speaks to her again to babble excitedly over an akuma attack down by the tower.

To which Marinette has to rush away again in panicked excuses.

* * *

 

“Marinette, if you want to grow taller you need to keep to a regular sleep schedule. There’s no more point to waking up earlier if you’re not going to sleep earlier.”

“You mean except for getting to school on time?” Marinette snipes back and Tikki gives her a disapproving look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get snappy with you Tikki. I just have so much to do. Things I have to get done if I want to enjoy my weekend this time. ”

“I understand that you’re stressed, Marinette. But running yourself to the ground isn’t going to relieve any of that.”

The teen runs a hand through dark hair. It’s starting to get oily, Tikki notes. “Why don’t I clean up a little while you take a shower. I’ll light some of your favourite candles and we can meditate for a few minutes.”

Marinette relents, forcing stiff joints up from her desk and to her bathroom down the stairs. Warm water will feel good on her clammy hands and feet, anyways. She’s careful coming down the steps into their living room, not wanting to make a ruckus that will wake her snoring parents. Around the corner and into the washroom cold tiles kiss her toes. Muscle memory wills her to prepare her bath, and allows her to get lost in her thoughts.

 _Comment rester heureux._ Subconsciously, she revisits her research from back in class.

 _Vivre dans le présent._ Live in the present.

 _Ecouter attentivement._ Listen carefully.

 _Prenez du temps pour recharger les batteries._ Take time to recharge the batteries

 _Soyez entourés de gens heureux._ Be surrounded by happy people

 _Travaillez plus lentement._ Work more slowly.

 _Lâcher-prise._ Let go.

 _Pardonnez plus souvent._ Forgive more Often **.**

_Le plus important : Clamez votre droit au bonheur une bonne fois pour toutes_

Claim your right to happiness.

It says in the article that happiness is not a problem free life, and she understands that. But to be frank, Marinette finds some of the advice stupid. She doesn’t have time to work slowly, or “recharge her batteries.” She supposes she’ll have to save that for the weekend.

She _does_ try to remind herself that this article isn’t about stress relief, not really. It had had more focus on a happy lifestyle in general- it is more philosophical.

It might be that she’ll have to work just on the things that she can or finds easiest. Problems don’t have to be resolved immediately. Marinette sinks into hot water and thinks of her options. She does not stop thinking even as she is tucked in for the night, having managed to answer most of the questions on her physics homework, wondering if she’ll be able to get a passing grade. She thinks about asking for help from her peers tomorrow before they can turn it in, and she thinks about the notebook full of designs she still has not been able to complete. She thinks about whether or not she’ll be eating alone tomorrow for lunch and how if she doesn’t fall asleep _now_ she’ll only be getting about six hours before Tikki wakes her for school. She thinks about purple butterflies and the flowers on her balcony she’s sure are slowly wilting. And then she thinks again about her options.

 _Be surrounded by happy people._ She thinks she likes her friends, but she feels her confidence waver at the mere thought of lila. She strengthens her resolve.

She loves Paris, and those who are close to her, who live in it. Lila is her biggest issue at the moment, and therefore the biggest threat to Ladybug and the safety of Paris.

 _Let go. Forgive more often._ She thinks that’s her first step.

Marinette closes her eyes, but doesn’t get to sleep for another few hours.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.mediter-pour-etre-heureux.com/8-habitudes-pour-une-vie-heureuse/


	3. Good Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just wish you could feel what you say  
> Show, never tell  
> But I know you too well  
> Kinda mood that you wish you could sell”
> 
> \-- Billie Ellish; “Idontwannabeyouanymore”

 

Marinette starts yet another morning staying on schedule thanks to Tikki, but her head is pounding and her eyes burn. Still, she is determined to have a good day, and that day wakes her up with a quick cup of cafe au lait, strawberries, and toast. Tikki comments on her slow movements and droopy eyelids but Marinette keeps her attitude up, a grin lifting her features. “The article said that to be happy I have to tell myself that I have a right to be happy. I’m claiming my happiness right now-- I’m gonna have a good day even if it kills me!”

Marinette trots to class after a few thin swipes of her make up and making a grab for her backpack and another packed lunch. Marinette will feel good if she knows she looks good. And a good meal will give her some extra energy for the day.

 

* * *

 

Makeup and food can only do so much, Marinette sighs. She’s just found out Lila is invited to Alya’s sleepover.

_Be surrounded by happy people. She thinks she likes her friends,_ but to be frank, Marinette doesn’t like who her friends are around Lila. Around Lila, even the most outspoken people tend to bend to her will and lose any sense of their own personality-- tripping all over themselves all to kiss up to one girl who tells them words they’ve been waiting to hear.

Well, there goes number four of her happy life, but she still has options. Marinette wants to complain, but quickly gets a grip on her resentment, knowing full well that this is her chance to claim her happiness. And to be happy she can’t be thinking like that. Yes, let go. Forgive more often.

“Sounds great, Alya.” Though she wants to tug at her pigtails.

And Lila isn’t making things any less difficult, having expressed she has no intention of cooperating or even being _civil_ before. The brunette gives her smug smiles when no one is looking and if she flips her chestnut hair she makes sure to whack Marinette in the nose or eyes when she can. Marinette wonders if maybe should eat lunch by herself today, afterall. And she tries so hard not to be angrier because there’s no akuma attack and she should be relaxing, but at one point she thinks an akuma attack would be a great escape to see her goofy, loving Chat Noir. Anger isn’t good for positive thoughts, and constantly likes to bring her back to Lila and her barbed tongue.

“I’m really looking forward to tonight!” Lila had said. “I haven’t had a sleepover in ages since I’ve been traveling so much! I hope I’m not intruding on your plans.”

Alya had reassured their italian classmate. “Of course! You’re always welcome, Lila! We’re all sleeping in my living room so there’s enough space for everyone.”

Alix was loud next to her ears. “Yeah! We invited you because we all want you to be there. Right, Marinette?”

The hard nudge to her side had been unnecessary, Marinette wanted to tell the pink-haired girl, but she’d nodded anyways. When Alya had turned away to greet Nino and Adrien, who had walked in, everyone else went to return to their seats, Lila lingering by her table.

“Awesome. We can watch movies, and do each other’s hair and makeup!” She seethed at the way Lila smirked. She said to her, sweetly but quietly, in passing on her way up to the back row. “Marinette, I know the perfect falsies to use for your lashes. Tape, too. They do _wonders_ for small, chinky eyes.”

Marinette had wanted to yell at her, slap her, stomp her feet like a child.

She instead takes a heavy breath, sits down, tries to let it go.

Tries to have a good goddamn day.   


* * *

 


	4. Good Meal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don't be that way  
> Fall apart twice a day”
> 
> \-- Billie Ellish; “Idontwannabeyouanymore”

It takes longer than it should to brush off the comment. And she thinks it should be understandable. If Chloe had said it, Marinette would have reacted much more aggressively.

So why didn’t she just because it’s Lila?

She watches her friends gather around the italian girl at the start of their lunch break, all of them ready to drink in her every word, eager to please her if she should ask for anything, all of them wrapped around a tan, manicured finger, and she thinks it should be understandable.

Small hands clench into tight fists, nails biting into her palms. She wants to tear into something. _Surround yourself with happy people._ People who make you happy. She thinks back to Lila’s blatantly racist comment, and thinks about lunch with Lila, staring into her poison green eyes, and knows already she couldn’t possibly be happy with it. Marinette is reluctant, even a little guilty, and angry that she should have to give up her friends to Lila, but she decides that if she can’t enjoy a day with her friends, she can always enjoy her day at home with her parents for lunch. Alya doesn’t appear to be pleased, probably disappointed when she excuses herself, but the rest of the girls are light on her, and tell her she’s sweet for reserving time with her parents.

She wonders if Alya’s reaction would be different if she were to tell her what Lila had said to her.

She would probably ask for proof. Marinette wants to laugh.

On her short walk home she moves with harsher steps than normal, her dearest friend’s honey brown gaze watching her with slight judgement, maybe pity fresh in her head. She has no doubt that Alya knows that Marinette skipped out on lunch because of the new girl.

She wonders if anyone had heard the way she’d spoken to her. She wonders how anyone would react. She wonders if it would matter. As she walks home she shakes her head and pushes away that doubt. Her friends are being manipulated-- they would defend her if they were in the know. Marinette is not as alone as she might feel like she is.

Also Adrien would defend her, if he had heard, if she had told him. Adrien cares about her. Right?

Adrien. He is as lovely, and as kind, and as charming as ever, and it makes Marinette all that much more stubborn to admit that she’s been feeling mixed about him. That she’s taken to making gifts upon gifts upon gifts, enough to last the next few decades of his life, to assert the fact that he had done no wrong to her- because really he _hasn't_ \- that he was perfect and he could do no wrong. That she doesn’t want him to defend her or say anything-- that it doesn’t hurt when he says he shouldn’t and doesn’t need to. That despite the way recent events have shaken the very foundation of most of her friendships maybe in 50 years they'll all still be as dear to her as they are now, and maybe in 50 years Marinette will still be in love with Adrien Agreste. Lila is only a moment in her life and everything will return to normal. Everything is okay as long as they have each other.

Marinette is snapped out of her thoughts when Tikki nudges her, realizing that she’d walked right past the bakery while she was distracted.

“Marinette, I thought we packed you lunch today. Is everything okay?” Her maman has finished helping out a neighbor who’s bought a simple baguette, and she considers her somber face with concern, knowing full well that if her daughter doesn’t have lunch at home she normally spends it with Alya.

Marinette brightens up her expression, not wanting to cause any worry. “Yup! I just wanted to have lunch here. With you guys.”

Her maman’s smile is sunny, and her day is a little brighter. “Papa is upstairs with food. I have to look after things down here, but you’ll see me at dinner. Enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks, Maman.”

Marinette is disappointed to find out that her father has decided not to join her for lunch, having already eaten by himself, and she finds herself sitting alone again. He does lay out a nice setup for her in half slices of croque monsieur, limonade, and an impressive platter of fresh and shiny fruits, despite that they’d made lunch for her in the morning. She appreciates it.

She spears a strawberry, observing the way it glimmers around its seeds in the light that filters through their windows. It looks delicious, bright red like a fine gem, but she can’t seem to summon an appetite. “Tikki, do you want a strawberry?”

The kwami takes her offering gratefully. “Aren’t you going to have some?”

Marinette stands up and starts to clear the table. “I’m not very hungry.”

“You have to keep your energy up!” Tikki looks alarmed. “What if there’s an akuma?”

It’s unfair of her to feel annoyed at her worry- Tikki cares about her, she knows. But a lot of times she feels like people care more about her alter ego. “Nothing Ladybug can’t handle.”

Tikki puts down her strawberry, and Marinette pauses in cleaning up. Her mind whispers that she must be a rotten child, skipping meals when her parents take time to make her food, and she gazes at the sandwiches mournfully. “I’ll eat more later, okay? I just think that maybe I should have gotten more sleep. I’ll be in a better mood for lunch if I take a quick nap.”

Tikki is forced to follow as her charge doesn’t leave much room for argument, bounding up the stairs and burrowing into her sheets in a contented sigh.

 

* * *

 

Marinette feels refreshed after her nap, glad it wasn’t too heavy else she would have woken up disoriented. She now waits in science class for Mendeleiev to make herself known, busy chatter from her classmates creating a pleasant white noise. This teacher tends to make the girl nervous, most of her harshest punishments for being tardy have been dealt by the older woman, but her tablet is settled squarely in the center of her workspace, along with a pencil and pen ready for class. She’s only had a few bites of fruit before leaving home, but strangely enough her stomach is more at ease than it had been in the morning.

“Everyone sit down and clear your desk except for a blue or black pen. We’re having a pop quiz!”

Well. There goes her stomach’s ease.

There’s a chorus of groans around her, and she wants to sink further into her desk. She hasn’t had a chance to study. Maybe if she’d looked at her homework to review during lunch instead of napping-

 _Her homework!_ She feels her stomach fall further. _Her binder! She’d left her binder with her homework on the dining table!_

“Hey, girl? Are you okay?” Alya frowns at her. “You look really pale.”

“Ha ha.” Marinette says. Yes. _Says._ The fruit feels like acid in her gut. “Yup. Just a little nervous.”

She swallows what feels like bile creeping up her throat.

 

* * *

 

“Is there something you need, Miss Cheng.”

It’s a statement, not a question. She resists a flinch at the low drawl from the professor. Marinette shouldn’t be surprised that the woman has no more faith in her, but it’s still a blow to her already wavering confidence. “M-madame.”

The purple-haired woman looks up from her graded papers with a raised, pointed brow. “Is there an issue?”

“O-oui, Madame.” Marinette’s hands wring and twist around each other nervously without her permission. She knows that she is far from Mendeleiev’s favourite student, what with her chronic tardiness and tendency to doze off or get distracted in class. “I’ve forgotten my binder at home, may I go and get my homework and turn it in after school today?”

Mendeleiev’s thin lips pull into an ugly scowl and icy irises narrow, sending a shot down her spine. “It will still be counted as late, Marinette. It would be unfair to your peers, who were responsible and came to class prepared today. I can only give you half points.”

Marinette thinks back to how she had stayed up all night to finish that damned assignment, and her chest grows tighter. “Oui, Madame.”

“While we’re at it I’m going to have to talk about your grades. You’re failing my class, Marinette.”

Tighter. She tries to control her breathing.

“Your quiz today didn’t do you any favors,” The sound of the girl’s wheezing seemed to finally get her attention, and the woman shoots up at the sight of her student in near hysterics. “Marinette?”

It’s like Marinette isn’t there anymore. A deep rooted panic she can’t smother shakes her small chest, and no matter how much air she takes in it isn’t enough. She can’t even realize that she isn’t letting any _out_. “Marinette, I need you to concentrate on breathing. Can you do that?”

She can’t.

“Is there something you need? Anything I can get you?” Marinette lets herself slump into the ground, dizziness taking over her. She barely pays attention to the way her teacher catches her around her shoulders to soften her descent. She shakes her head once she realizes she’s still hasn’t answered. They wait there for what seems like such a long time as Marinette tries to get herself back in control, but surprisingly the woman isn’t pressuring her, only speaking calmly by her side. Slowly but surely, the girl is able to catch a breath and hold onto it, the pounding in her head and heart mellowing out. There are tears streaming down red cheeks and her hands stay clammy and trembling against her chest. “Marinette? Are you okay now?”

She’s humiliated. She wants to disappear. Her voice is thick and like a frog’s. “Oui, Madame.”

Mendeleiev tries to meet her eyes, and fails when the girl keeps ducking away. “We can fix your grade together if I can count on you to give me your best efforts, okay? I’ll give you extra credit for the weekend that will be due on Monday, but I won’t accept it endless you come to class with a full night of sleep and a proper meal. Understand? Please try to relax this weekend. I encourage you to finish your classes today but if you decide to go home, your absence will be dismissed.”

She wants to tell her she doesn’t want it anymore. But she also doesn’t want to start sobbing in front of the most feared teachers at Francois Dupont. Which she is sure will happen if she opens her mouth again. She nods, keeping her head bowed down in shame. She leaves the room in long, quick strides. Mendeleiev watches her small form scurry out of the science room with pity in her eyes.

She feels a gentle nudge from Tikki. She ignores it. She doesn’t want to talk.

“Marinette?” She walks faster.

“Dude! Marinette, wait up!” Nino and Adrien are jogging towards her to keep up with her brisk pace. “What’s wrong, Nette?”

 _I don’t want to talk._ Marinette feels another rogue tear down her face in a fat stroke. She comes to a stop when a hand that isn’t hers makes its way to her shoulder. _I don’t want you to look at me._

Her bangs are shadowing her blotchy face, but she can’t speak without sniffling else snot drip from her nose, so she refuses to say anything. Adrien closes in on her but she can’t see his face without him seeing hers, so she turns away. He asks in that sweet voice, “Did something happen?”

Her good day is ruined, so terribly that not even her lovely Adrien can make it better. He catches on that she isn’t going to say anything “Listen. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but I hope you know that you’re a really strong, really amazing person. Whatever it is- you’ll surely figure it out.”

 _I don’t need you to tell me that,_ Marinette wants to yell at him. She is Ladybug, for god’s sake, so why would she need someone to tell her that? She doesn’t.

Does she really need someone to tell her that?

God, she’s being pathetic. Marinette takes a deep, shuddering breath. Just like Madame Bustier teaches them in gym class. There’s no point in hiding the fact that she’d been crying, so she doesn’t bother with being discreet in wiping at her eyes before facing her beautiful boy. The way he’s looking at her is so soft, green eyes like lime and a cute little pout. Nino is behind him with a similar expression, and she wants to pull them both into tight hug. She’s wrong to think that her good day is ruined when it isn’t even close to being over yet, and when she has friends like these who are there for her. Her bad grade and homework is an issue that can be resolved- and her teacher had even offered her help. There isn’t anything to cry about anymore, even if she still wants to. So she forces her chin up, eyes a little wider than normal to keep any lingering dew on her lashes from falling. 

She tries for a small smile, but it’s a genuine one.“A-Adrien! Nino!”

Both boys perk up when she finally acknowledges them, but Marinette lets herself relax. She really is too tired to be nervous around her crush this time around. “It’s just been a tough day. But I’m fine now. Thanks, really.”

Nino walks over closer not bothering to hide his relief, but she does see his eyes flicker to a spot behind her every now and then. She wonders if she’d attracted another akuma, but doesn’t have a chance to check because her friend has his arms around her. And then Adrien does, too. “I’ll trust you on that. But you know you can always talk to us, right? You have Alya, too.”

Both of them step back for her to breathe, but it’s almost too soon.

“I think I’m going to go home for today. Thanks again.”

Nino and Adrien nod and watch her leave. They had seen a purple butterfly tailing her when she’d come out of Mendeleiev’s, but they’re glad that it doesn’t seem to be interested in her anymore. “Hey, Nino- I have something to care of real quick. I’ll meet you in class!”

Adrien bolts in the direction of the nearest supply closet.

 

* * *

 

Marinette is glad to have taken up her teacher’s offer to take the rest of the day off, but is a little disappointed when she gets a call from Chat Noir about an akuma. No, no one is akumatized, he'd informed her, but there’s just been a stray wandering the halls of a middle school.

Her middle school. She’s disgusted at the idea that she’s probably the source of it’s negativity. It only reminds her of her mental break down in class and she’s embarrassed all over again. _Let it go,_ she tells herself, trying not to dwell on it.

Still, she’s glad for the extra time after the little butterfly is taken care of. Any work or new lessons she’s missing from class right now might be nagging at the back of her mind, but she intends to spend her break studying and working on other homework and tending to her garden. She can catch up during the weekend along with doing her extra credit, after her night with the girls. She dumps the contents of her backpack around her chaise in a heaping mess of papers and writing tools. Obviously, she’s much more cautious in handling her tablet.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe right now you should focus on de-stressing?”

Marinette feels guilty, dipping her head down so that they wouldn’t make eye contact. “Sorry Tikki, I’m pretty sure I almost got akumatized again.”

“It’s okay! You didn’t have the best day. We can have a snack and practice some more meditation to make up for it!” seems Tikki eager to finally get some food into her user. It would do some good for her nerves.

Marinette sighs, but nods, doubtful.

 

* * *

 

Meditation means relaxing candles and aromas. Yet, she can’t relax or focus or stay still. She instead disobeys Tikki’s orders of keeping her eyes closed and watches the candle flicker and contemplates. Tikki doesn’t notice, so it’s fine. She also isn’t so strict on the rules- there are apparently many different ways to meditate. So it’s really just about Marinette’s comfort.

She’s not feeling very comfortable.

Her favorite fluffy socks feel almost prickly against the delicate skin of her heels. The room is too warm. The scent that is meant to soothe is invasive in her nostrils. And she’s distracted. But Tikki looks like she’s in her element, the red being's large eyes closed and antennae relaxed, so she doesn’t say anything.

The little flame in front of her licks up a little from a nonexistent breeze, and she’s a little alarmed that maybe she’d moved without meaning to.

The fire remains still again, so she watches it flicker again and contemplates.

Her mother once called her fire on Chinese new year, when she’d been carried away by wine and idle conversation over dinner while the bakery had been closed. She’d talked a little about about the zodiac, and also how people were made of the elements. Some people are stone, some are water, but Marinette is made of fire.

Tikki had fully agreed, seeing how she burns brilliantly and relentlessly as Ladybug, and how as Marinette she glows as a gentle guiding flame. Like warmth and hope and love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marinette quickly grows frustrated at the turn of her thoughts, and ignores Tikki’s inquiries as she stands to turn to her bed without finishing her meditation. Or her homework. She washes off her makeup, she opens a window, and she blows out the candle.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If I eat alone from this moment on  
> That's just what I'll do..."
> 
> \-- Janus,"Rather be Me," (Mean Girls the Musical)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ...  
> The thing is, Marinette IS referencing good and healthy coping mechanisms. But she’s being impatient and not approaching it the right way- ignoring her problems for positivity. Sometimes when anxious it's hard to keep an organized work space and even head space, and complete simple tasks. It can get hard to focus.
> 
> Also when anxious, for myself at least, its common to not be able to sleep for the days following or sleep too much from the exhaustion. It’s awful. Chamomile tea and melatonin can only do so much in this situation. It’s a good idea to avoid naps in the day and to keep a consistent schedule to sleep on time, but this can be difficult for people like Marinette, who’s anxiety with all of her responsibilities make it difficult for her to keep a clear head and keep track of time. 
> 
> If anyone is interested in meditation, I’ve recently downloaded an app called “Headspace” in the app store for iphone, and I highly recommend it. It has cute visuals and great guides.


	5. Good Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hurt, I can't shake  
> We've made every mistake  
> Only you know the way that I break”
> 
> \-- Billie Ellish; “Idontwannabeyouanymore”

 

 

“Guh.” There’s a gentle prod at her face, and blue eyes show themselves to the world again. “Huh?”

“Your parents are calling you!” Tikki’s eyes are as large as ever, wide and like sapphires.

“What time is it?” She might have overdone her nap this time. Outside her windows it’s dark. The sun had already set. Her throat is dry and her head is muddled.    

Tikki frowns. “You fell asleep around five o’clock. It’s nine, now. You slept for four hours.”

Marinette lifts herself out of bed, world going fuzzy for a moment. “F-four hours? Oh no! I’m late! I was supposed to be Alya’s at an hour ago!”

“Marinette! You’ve been in bed all day! Get up, now!” There’s a hard knock at her door, her father’s voice ringing clear. “You have to eat dinner before your mother puts it away!”

“He came in earlier but left you alone when he saw that you were asleep,” Tikki fills her in, “As far as I know they ate without you, but I think they want to talk to you about something. You should eat with them before you leave. Your friends can wait a little longer.”

Marinette groans. A “talk” with her parents would always be dreaded without context. She considers hiding in the bathroom for a shower, but her stomach grumbles in protest. Tikki looks at her pointedly. “You told me you would eat more later. Later is now. Go!”

After shooting a quick text to Alya and setting her overnight bag by the trap door for easy access when she leaves, she does, though it takes her a few more blinks. Her arm has also gone cold. She had probably fallen asleep on it and cut off the circulation.

Her parents are waiting for her on the couch at the bottom of those stairs. Sabine kisses her forehead and leads her to her chair while her Papa heats up her food. They are especially doting tonight, and Marinette wonders if she’s done anything to deserve it. Other than saving Paris on occasion, but they don’t know that, of course. She’s glad for their attention, but it gets uncomfortable when she’s halfway into her meal and they’re still watching her. These past few weeks, Marinette has discovered her appetite to be a sensitive thing. This sort of discomfort is an easy way to spoil it. So she sets down her chopsticks, sheepish, and looks at them expectantly. “Is something up?”

Her maman opens her small mouth to say something but it’s her father’s voice that she hears before anything can come out. “Have you been eating well? Sleeping well? You’ve been so tired lately, and you haven’t been doing well in class. Are you okay?”

Marinette is a little overwhelmed.

“Don’t overwhelm her, Tom.” Her mother stops her father with a hand on his shoulders. That’s a mother for you. Grey wouldn’t be considered a warm color, normally, but her mother’s caring gaze melts her. “Honey. What we mean is- is there anything you want to tell us?”

She dislikes that expression on her mother much less, a wrinkle between her fine brows from concern and a tight frown. It makes her look old. She feels guilty, for troubling them. Marinette tells herself that she’ll do better not to in the future. “School is fine. I mean I’m struggling in a few classes but I’ve been meaning to go to after school hours for tutoring. Maybe I can even ask some of my friends for help.”

She’s confused when that answer doesn’t seem to satisfy them. At this rate her dinner will be cold again, and they continue to hover over her. Her papa has calmed down, but the way he looks at her is full of distress. “We got a call from your teacher, Professeure Mendeleiev. Did you have an anxiety attack in her class? She practically demanded that you rest this weekend. Maybe you shouldn’t go to your sleepover. That girl that was giving you trouble before is going to be there, right?”

There’s a jolt of the table and a yelp from Papa, and she’s sure her mother has kicked him out of sight. Her appetite is completely gone. “What? No- I’ve been working so hard to get everything done on time so that I could go! This is the only time I’ve been free in so long-”

Her mother is the one who interjects this time, much more tactful,“-And you should use that time to focus on yourself. We’re worried you’re overworking yourself. We only want what’s best for you.”

It’s her only chance of catching up with her friends. She’s missed out on so many chances to see the girls because of her duties as Ladybug. And she only has tonight and tomorrow before she has to work all day on extra credit and bringing her grades back up. She’s about to protest, and protest loudly, but she then she soaks in their worry and the warm food already in her belly, and decides to quiet this part of herself that wants to throw a tantrum, scream, and cry for how unfair it all is.

She picks her chopsticks back up and pokes around at a piece of chicken. “Okay.”

She doesn’t see her parents exchange an unsure look because she won’t look up from her meal. “Really? We thought you would make more of a fuss.”

“I’ll have to tell Alya I’m not going. But it’s fine.” It is. They’re right, Lila will be there. She won’t be able to handle an entire night with her yapping all about herself. She can stay home and focus on designing, taking care of the garden, cleaning her room, and catching up for class and sleeping and resting with all of the extra time she suddenly has. Maybe she’ll even facetime Adrien for help in her sciences (Yeah, right).

She wants to spend time with her friends. She wants to have fun with everyone. She really wants to go. But this is fine. She shoves more mouthfuls down her throat before her appetite can disagree again and helps clean up the table and kitchen without another word. Her parents try to give her comforting words, like how she can host her own slumber party and that she’s going to see them on monday, anyways. They’re treating her like glass, and this annoys her because she’d agreed with them so easily- she isn’t angry about missing the sleepover. They don’t need to comfort her.

She might be a little disappointed, but she has a productive weekend ahead of her. Marinette is in a positive place. She’s having positive thoughts, and she’s in no danger of an akuma.

* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.

“Hi, Alya.”

“I got your text. Everyone’s here already. Where are you? I feel like I barely saw you today.”

“Yeah. I ate lunch at home, remember?”

“Adrien and Nino told me you left after Mendeleiev’s. Are you sick?”

“Oh, I’m not sick.”

“That’s good. What did you have to miss class for, anyway?”

“Um.” She doesn’t want to say why- but Alya’s her best friend. She’s supposed to tell her about these sorts of things, right? But at the same time, the auburn haired girl’s voice sounds a little terse and unwelcoming over the phone. Marinette wonders if she’s imagining the tension. “Is it okay if I tell you some other time?”

“Sure, but are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. We started the show without you, but none of the episodes are in order so it hardly matters. There’s also pizza when you get here. How far are you?”

“Actually, I called to let you know I can’t stay overnight anymore.”

“And why not?” She’s unsettled by how hard her tone is.

“My parents aren’t letting me.”

“I don’t get it. They aren’t strict. You’ve been getting better at being on time to class lately, too.”

“I don’t know.” Marinette isn’t sure what Alya is expecting her to say. She doesn’t want to mention how her parents are worried about her. “They just don’t want me to do anything this weekend. I have to focus on studying, too. I didn’t do very well on the pop quiz today.”

“...Are you lying to me?”

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The question catches her off guard. She’s reeling. Alya may as well as have just slapped her.

“...What? Why would you think that? Where is this coming from?”

“Lila said something interesting today. Like how we always have to put up with your tardiness and you flaking out on us and just brush it off because it’s just you being you. How many times have you ditched us, Marinette? Or bailed or forgotten without a good reason? Like that time at the pool! We waited for you for _hours_ , only to find out you blew us off for _Adrien_ . We’re always so… _accommodating_ towards you. Coming to your house early in the morning, coming up with these ridiculous schemes to help you confess to him. But you never do the same. It makes me really question whether or not you really consider our feelings.”

Alya’s voice is shaky, from hurt or from fury, she’s not sure. Marinette wants to tell herself that Alya doesn’t mean any of this, that this is just Lila’s words put into her mouth  in the heat of the moment. But Alya’s rant is is too thought out, like she’s been stewing in this, like she’s been waiting to tell her this for a long time.

_A deep rooted panic she can’t smother shakes her small chest._

“So you’re going to listen to Lila over me?”

“That again. You know, you always accuse Lila of lying, but you know what I think? She’s the only one brave enough to call you out on your bullcrap and you don’t like it.”

Marinette doesn’t get another word in. Alya has hung up. Her head buzzes with static.

“Marinette?” After a few minutes of dead silence Tikki approaches her slowly liked a cornered animal. Marinette realizes that she’s started crying. “Are you okay?”

Resisting the hiccup trying to force its way up her sore throat, her hands set the phone down and blindly make a grab for makeup compact in her overnight tote. Tikki frets about her asking questions, but Marinette only watches herself mechanically dab at the corners of her eyes with powder to hide the streaks and puffiness in her skin in the little mirror.

_Marinette wants to laugh. She doesn’t want to talk. She wants to tug at her pigtails. She wants to complain, wants to yell, wants to stomp her feet like a child, wants to tear into something, she wants to disappear._

“Marinette! Akuma!”

 

For crying out loud.

 

“Hawkmoth can only target people who feel like there’s no solution to their problems, but you always find a solution!” A solution? Isn’t that was she’s been trying to do all along? Having enough sleep, talking to loved ones, taking care of herself in general. It’s too hard. It’s much harder than had thought it to be.

 _No matter how much air she takes in it isn’t enough. She can’t even realize that she isn’t letting any_ out _._ Something foreign bubbles in her chest, hot and tight and leaving her shoulders quaking. Her eyes are bleary, glazed over. She isn’t seeing anything but a luminous purple. _God, she’s being pathetic._

“Marinette!”

 

She just wants to rest.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this is too emo I apologize, but they are in middle school. It’s a little hard not to write them this way for me. I have a difficult time writing in a more descriptive, brighter tone. Most of my narratives start out very monotone and to point, only for me to go back and edit and add details and more character interaction. It does help a little, as in this story Marinette is supposed to be tired and a little down in the dumps- with all of her responsibilities slowly getting to her. She’s trying to resist it, though. She’s trying to keep an optimistic outlook, but her actions prove her otherwise.  
> Once Marinette gets akumatized, however, I’ll be writing more outside perspectives, and I’ll be trying harder to change the tone… But maybe not. Not sure if I can manage. I’m not an experienced writer.  
> So yeah, this story will have a lot of teenage angst. If you don’t think there’s much now, there will be later. If this is not to your taste, I thank you for your time, anyways. And if you plan and stick with this story, I hope you’re enjoying it so far! Thank you, and I appreciate feedback.


	6. Good Riddance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tell the mirror what you know she's heard before..."

Marinette is suddenly far, far away, a place where no one can reach her except for _him_.

_“You treasure those close to you. You have so much love to give, but why is it that I’m the only one who can see that? Your most trusted friends have revealed their true feelings towards you. They doubt you. They hurt you. It isn’t fair that your efforts are never appreciated. If they can't recognize what you do for love, should they really deserve it?”_

She is lucky to have never had to experience sleep paralysis, but she imagines this is what it's like. Limbs like lead and trapped in her head fighting an unseen force for control over her own body. The push and pull of awareness and oblivion. 

“Everyone deserves love.”

 

Stop.

 

_“You’re right, everyone deserves love. But everyone also deserves to be selfish every once in a while.”_

“You can’t trick me. I won’t let you take advantage of my emotions.”

 

This needs to stop!

 

_“Of course. Because you’ve had quite enough of that, haven’t you? You only do good for others and for what? People keep forcing these terrible feelings onto you. I can help you.”_

 

No.

 

_“Bring me the miraculouses,”_

 

No, she won’t.

 

Because she has responsibilities. Duties.

 

Her duties to Paris…

 

Tikki…

 

Ladybug…

 

She needs to protect them.

 

They need to hide.

 

_“And I can give you the power to take back those feelings you so selflessly gave out before.”_

 

She needs to hide them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The fluttering of dark eyelashes.

 

Has she somehow fallen asleep yet again?

 

Marinette looks around and finds herself a mess on her own bedroom floor. Her legs are splayed out rather unattractively. Her compact is open and spilling little crumbs of translucent powder in between wood planks.

Her phone is inches away.

 

 

...Right.

Her friends. She feels her heart clench. Had she cried herself to sleep? She sits in the middle of her pink round rug.

 

(Her room feels strangely empty.) 

 

Picking herself up, face feeling puffy and sticky from old tears, she gets herself onto stiff, cold feet and tries to pull herself together. Her chest feels like it's been hollowed out with a spoon, and she has to take a dry swallow to quell the new onslaught of hurt that tugs on her heart. She sniffles and runs a hand through messy blue locks of hair. 

Carelessly, her phone is thrown onto her chaise. Her compact is thrown into her vanity mirror, clattering noisily.

“Be careful!”

Marinette thinks she’s jumped a full yard high into the air, forgetting her grief for the moment. Had she forgotten to hang up her phone call on accident? She edges closer to where is phone lies on its front, but when she turns the screen upwards it light up with no notifications. _9:54_ , it displays. A chill goes down her spine as she surveys her room, wary. “...H-hello?”

“In here!” The voice is coming… from her vanity. She changes course. “The drawer you just threw us into!”

“...Us?” Marinette creeps closer, very slowly, heart stuttering in her chest. Polished wood brushes quivering fingertips, and she pulls a knob to draw it open.

Her compact mirror in now in her hand. It’s the same as always, small and black and square, fitting comfortably across the expanse of her palm. There’s a crack scrawled across the pressed powder, and there are some smudges dirtying the smooth surface of the glass, but it’s mostly the same.

The only difference is that in her reflection, her eyes gleam red. “Thank you.”

Marinette squeals and the mirror falls down on its face. It’s voice has become shrill. “Hey! Watch it! You’re going to break it you clutz!”

“-Marinette? What’s going on up there?” A call fading down the stair.

“Um! J-just a spider! I’m fine! Don’t come up here it’s big and gross!”

“Do you need Papa to come kill it?”

“No! I killed it- It’s very dead!”

Marinette picks the compact back up and opens it cautiously, now staring into green eyes. “How do you always manage to drop things? And you seriously think Mama and Papa are going to be scared away by a spider? It’s no wonder why we hate liars when we suck at lying.”

“W-w-w-w-w-w-w-”

“Get a grip and spit it out already.”

“Wh _-uh_. Am I dreaming?”

“Ugh. I’m done. Someone else talk to her.”

“S-someone else!” Marinette exclaims.

Eyes flash red again. “Marinette. Please calm down and we’ll explain.”

“We.”

“Yes, we.” The eyes go through the whole rainbow in a split second before staying red. “Deep breaths.”

 

A deep breath.

 

“Good.”

“What is this?” The question forces past her lips without much thinking.

There’s a bubbly laugh, even though the mirror isn’t big enough to see her mouth at this angle, she’s sure it’s the reflection, again. The eyes are yellow now, slightly squinted from mirth. “We’re you, silly!”

Marinette studies the sunny expression that beams back at her, and contemplates on whether or not it has any reason to lie to her. The eyes she sees in the mirror are definitely hers, no doubt. Save for the new color, it's hers down to the smudged eyeliner are the outer corners and the flare of fine eyelashes clumped in ruined mascara. The brunette can't resist turning her attention to her vanity, where her normal blue eyes blink back at her in confusion. A doppelganger? She's heard that seeing your doppelganger can mean certain doom, but her copy is implying that there are more than one of her. “...And how many of me are there?”

“I guess you can say we can be limitless? We’re your emotions.”

“All of them?”

“Well. Just the ones you seem to feel the most. You know- like, the core ones. Think of us as major parts of your personality. Currently, there are only eight of us in here. Is that wrong? Role call, ladies!”

 

(Ladies. Lady. _Ladybug_. Marinette flinches.)

 

Yellow eyes wink at her, then flash scarlet red. “Responsibility. You can call me Duty for short.”

Then soda orange. “Hello, I’m Anxiety. But I guess you can call me Fear, i-if that’s better.”

Then lemonade yellow again, “Me again! I’m Joy!”

Then acid green. “Disgust.”

Then vivid blue. “Anger.”

Then lusty purple. “Desire.”

Then sweet pink. “Hello Marinette. I’m Love.”

And dull grey. “I’m Sadness. Call me Gloom, please.”

 

Red. “Any questions?”

Marinette stumbles in her thoughts. “A lot.”

Yellow, and tinkling giggles. “You’re actually calling yourself ‘ _Duty’_ , Responsibility? I was wrong, you _do_ have a sense of humor!”

Red. “Any questions?” she presses harder.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“I suppose the others have made it my job to explain things to you.” Duty sighs. “Joy was close in her explanation, though, so points to her-”

Yellow. “-Yay!-”

Red. “-really, this is pretty complicated to put in words. Anyways. We take shape in your most prominent emotions. Our presence influences your mentality and therefore your behavior and thinking. It might be strange to you that we appear to have feelings of our own, but the closer we are in our objectives and needs the more we might overlap or blend together. It can get confusing. So be aware, if you decide to get rid of one of us, the remaining might get more power. ”

“Get rid of!” Marinette exclaims, incredulous. Should she be alarmed? That sounds ominous.

“Good grief.” Marinette only then realizes the eyes are now green, and rolling at her. “You’re not _executing_ us or anything. We don’t have bodies. We just become dormant.”

“But why would I do that?”

Eyes flash purple and raise a brow. “To better control us and keep us in check. Isn’t that what you created this for? That’s what we wanted.”

The girl couldn’t remember conjuring up such a thing. “...Oh. But that hardly explains anything. Just _how_ did I... create this?”

The eyes flicker through red and orange and yellow and green and blue and pink and grey before her- um. _Their?_ Their brows furrow. “Hm. We don’t know.”

Yellow. “Wow! What if this is like a miraculous! This mirror is definitely magical, at least!”

 

(A miraculous? Something tells her that can’t be right)

 

She nods anyways. “Y-you mean like Rena Rouge and Carapace? But it doesn’t seem the same.”

Orange. There’s a waver in her voice. “No, no. This can’t be right. It’s magical but something like this can’t possibly be stable. W-we shouldn’t use this.”

Purple. “You worry too much, Marinette. If anything _Anxiety_ is most likely what you needed this for in the first place. You can finally squash that little asshole.”

Marinette gasps at the language. “That was rude!”

Desire rolls her eyes, “Please, Alya curses like that all the time. What’s stopping us?”

Green. “How about _manners_.”

Desire scoffs, “You’re the last person I wanna hear that from, Disgust.”

Orange. “Mama isn’t going to like that.”

Love chimes in, “Fear is right, Desire! Consider Mama’s poor heart.  She couldn’t take it if Marinette started speaking that way. There are better ways to express--”

“Back to the matter at hand.” Desire interrupts. “Why don’t we revisit what happened back in class today. Anxiety, want to explain yourself? What happened there?”

Orange. “W-we’re failing science! Can you blame me!”

“I can. How is freaking out supposed to help at all? She gave us extra credit for the weekend. It’s not like teachers enjoy watching students fail. They like to think they’re doing their job well.”

Green. “I have to agree with Desire, there. That was just embarrassing. You made us look pathetic.”

Purple. Desire gives Marinette an imploring look. “Marinette. Listen to me. Mendeleiev is kind enough to give us extra credit and a weekend to recuperate, but fixing our grades is going to take much more than that. Are you planning on a repeat of today? Anxiety is holding you back. You need this.”

Red. “That’s a fair point. We got a freebee just this once. We can’t waste it. You have other things to do than dwell on yesterday’s assignments. Time isn’t going to wait for us to catch up-- this might be necessary for the best results. I say use the mirror.”

Pink. “Please don’t feel pressured to make a decision. There’s no rush.”

Purple again. “All in favor say ‘aye.’”

 

Grey.  “I guess I say aye.”

Pink. “If it will make you happy, Marinette.”

Red. “Aye.”

Yellow. “Aye!”

Green. “Whatever.”

Blue. “Aye.”

Purple. “I say _aye_. What say you?”

Before Marinette can answer, orange flares up in her irises.

“I say _nay_!” Fear interjects. “Marinette! Please think this through! There has to be consequences to this! It’s a bad idea! A horrible idea!”

 

Marinette is conflicted.

 

“You’re scared. I know you are because I’m still here!”

 

_Her chest grows tighter. Tighter. She tries to control her breathing. No matter how much air she takes in it isn’t enough. She can’t even realize that she isn’t letting any out. Something foreign bubbles in her chest, hot and tight and leaving her shoulders quaking._

 

She never wants to feel that way again.

 

“Aye.”

 

She can only see her eyes and nose, yet somehow Desire smirks at her. “Atta girl.”

 

* * *

 

 

(Before Marinette officially turns in for the night one last time she packs cookies into her purse for the next day on impulse, and stops herself to wonder why. Frowning, she takes them back out. It wouldn’t do good to snack so often on treats, and the cookies will go stale. She should store them somewhere else.

 

Tucked into her bed Marinette feels like her room is too quiet. Something is missing.

 

But where alarm bells should be blaring and ricocheting off the walls of her skull comes blissful ignorance, she’s able to shake off the curious feeling easily. It doesn’t worry her.)

 

That night, she can finally sleep peacefully.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I don't wanna be you
> 
> Anymore."
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ...
> 
>  
> 
> Hello again to anyone who is bothering with me :)
> 
>  
> 
> Some announcements-- I would greatly appreciate it if readers will look over it. 
> 
> 1\. If you've read any of the comments and my replies to them, you can see that Adrinette will be relevant to the plot, but I'm still deciding on whether or not that should be endgame. Currently, I'm leaning towards leaving the final pairing open ended. I still have a lot of time to decide on that, though. Any thoughts? 
> 
> 2\. Also I'm adding background characters to the story-- but they will be very very unimportant as to who and rarely mentioned ever again. Who they are specifically will have next to no influence on the plot, so I might be pulling some characters in from other show or AUs, though I'll make them vague and may slip their name in passing. But if I don't put the names in, maybe it'll be fun to be able to guess who they are just from their description?


	7. Without Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You have to do this detox thing I did. It’s an alien spa, you go through it, fwoossssh- lasers- bwaa-bwaa-bwaa sucks everything out. Everything that was holding me back, everything bad.”
> 
> \--Morty, “Rest and Ricklaxation” (Rick and Morty, season 3 episode 6)

Alya spends most of class time fidgeting nervously at her Ladybug phone charm. Madame Bustier’s voice gets further and further away from her every time she flicks at it. Being in one of the front seats for most of her classes, she’s sure that if she had been with another teacher they would have scolded her for the obnoxious slide of hard plastic against polished wood. She brings herself to stop, though, once Nino and Adrien have looked back at her enough times in concern.

She immediately stuffs her smartphone deep into her backpack, not too abruptly that it would alert the girl next to her.

The girl who still hasn’t made a peep to her. Hasn’t even _looked_ at her save for an awkward glance and strained smile upon getting to their shared pew with only a minute to spare before the final bell.

Alya hadn’t seen Marinette since friday afternoon before the girl had disappeared after midday classes. She hadn’t spoken to her since their heated phone call that following evening, where she told her off for being an irresponsible friend.

God, she’s so embarrassed.

Those conversations are meant to have in person, face to face! She couldn’t have waited another day or two to bring up the issue? She curses her past self, but after constantly being ditched the day before, she’d been so riled up. And in the end, she hadn’t been able to clearly think about the things she’d wanted to say- and her words had come out so much harsher than planned.

Thankfully, her phone call hadn’t dampened the mood of the sleepover. The girls are sweet enough to have gathered around her when they’d seen how upset she’d been and comforted her. For a fraction of their night they’d reassured her that what she’d said doesn’t put her out of line. That she and Marinette just need to communicate more honestly from then on. Lila, who might not have been ready to offer emotional help with how new their friendship is, was there to keep the rest of the night casual and light so not to revisit those bad feelings again.

They hadn’t wanted to attract an akuma, after all.

But now time is coming for her to communicate more honestly with her best friend-- right as soon as Bustier is done speaking. She’s knows what she wants to say, she knows what she wants to hear in return, but she knows she’s not ready for it.

Just as she’s about to go crazy from the repetitive sound of pencil lead against paper from other students taking notes, the bell rings and they are dismissed.

Alya sighs, and turns in her seat to get it over with, “Marinette, I think we should--”

Marinette is not there.

 _She’s running away?!_ Alya simmers in her seat. _Do I really have to be the one to approach her?_

“Hey.” Alya takes her boyfriend’s arm, who startles since he’d had his obnoxiously huge headphones on. “Where did Marinette go?”

Nino turns to her in surprise. “To the science labs. She didn’t tell you? She has work to turn in to Mendeleiev.”

Adrien also joins in the conversation, joining them for lunch that day. “Yeah, she looked like she was in a rush.”

“A rush to get away from me.” Alya mutters. This gets both their attentions.

“Did something happen between you guys? Didn’t you guys have that sleepover?”

“She didn’t go. Ditched us again.”

“Whoa. Lover’s spat?” Adrien jokes. Alya doesn’t laugh.

Nino interjects this time, more in tune and knowledgeable with how to handle a moody Alya than Adrien is. “Hey, it’s okay! You can sort this out later. Marinette has some things she needs to take care of first. She’ll get to you eventually.”

Apparently, he’s not knowledgeable enough. Alya’s mood sours further. “Okay, so I’m on hold. Again.”

Despite his instinct not to press the issue, Adrien asks with curious green eyes. “What does that mean?”

“I’m sorry, I guess I just forgot that friendship isn’t number one on Marinette’s list of priorities. Or two. Or three. Or ten.”

The three are seated in the cafeteria a couple seats away from their class, so that Alya can try have some peace with herself. Adrien and Nino are still idiots together in the seats next over to her, the model introducing some new anime he’s watching about people switching bodies or some shit, but they still check in on her every couple of minutes to see how she’s doing as she spears her lunch and chews with a little too much aggression.

“Okay, babe, please calm down.”

“But she always does this!”

“Don’t you think you should talk to her before assuming her situation? Marinette looked like she was having a rough day on friday. She probably doesn’t mean to keep you waiting all the time, but what’s a few minutes longer before you talk it out with her? You’re getting all worked up.”

“Worked up over what?” A new voice reaches them in a familiar high pitch.

“M-Marinette,” Nino jumps back to make room for her in their little huddle. Adrien beams at her so bright Alya wants to scoff. If she weren’t so cross, she would’ve squealed at how in love these two idiots are. “How was Mendeleiev?”

Alya’s shocked to her core when Marinette’s response is perfectly articulate.

“Well. Kagami can never _truly_ take the title of ‘Ice Queen’ while Mendeleiev’s still around. But she did help me out a whole lot. After taking my extra credit she made sure I’m all caught up in today’s lecture and told me to come in after class to review some old topics with her. Even said she’s considering letting the class have an optional retake of one of her past exams!”

Adrien looks ecstatic, “That’s great Marinette! If you ever need any other help let me know. I really like physics so I can always tutor you.”

(Okay. So she’s still squealing internally. But she’s trying to stay mad longer. But can you blame her? Adrien’s smile is _so soft_ for the little baker’s girl.)

But Marinette? Alya squints in suspicion from her reaction. Or, more accurately, lack thereof. Sure, the short girl flushes and giggles cutely, but there’s no mish-mash of french. “Thanks, Adrien!”

Adrien of course is as composed as ever at the display. (Alya knows better. His cheeks might remain unaffected but no one can convince her that his ears are normally that shade of pink.)

But even with her shipper observations Alya can’t bring herself to smile. “Marinette, can I talk to you alone?”

Her best friend’s butterfly-induced smile is quick to sober up. “Sure.”

Alya leads the shorter girl over to a nearby staircase. Most of their schoolmates prefer to socialize at the cafeteria or go out or home for lunch, so Alya isn’t worried much about having enough privacy.  Wanting to get this over with, she decides to throw caution to the winds and starts, “So. About friday.”

Marinette simply raises a dark brow. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t make it to the sleepover.” 

Alya doesn't think she imagines Marinette's frown getting tighter. “It’s okay. I’ve gotten all caught up in classes and was able to start on that purse I’ve been trying to make.”

“I’m also sorry I was so harsh on you. Even if I was frustrated I could have handled that a little better. And if you could go you would have. I shouldn’t have assumed things.”

“...Thanks.”

 _Thanks? Is that it?_ Irritation starts to bubble hot in her veins. “...So? Do you have anything to say to me?”

“Well, first of all I’m sorry I hurt you. I never mean or want to, but sometimes I’m going to do things wrong. And I won’t learn from it until someone tells me. So if you have any more problems with me in the future, please let me know.” She speaks with no hesitation, and while it’s different Alya feels a rush of relief at finally hearing the words. Marinette must have been thinking about her carefully, too. She feels a bit guilty- she should have more faith in Marinette and their friendship. She should know the other girl will listen if she tells her something is bothering her. Alya almost makes a move to hug her best friend, but Marinette speaks up again. This time, her tone is much harder.

“But last night I was also really hurt by you. Lila’s telling you I’m always ditching you? I’m really sorry I tend to flake out-- I value your time. I should respect that more and I’m sorry. I want to let you know that I'm not ditching you for... no good reason. But I can't promise you change on that, really. And that's not a worthy explanation, I know." Marinette scowls. "But...why is it that you listen to her over me, your best friend? And suddenly holding me accountable for rounding you guys up to bug you about Adrien and my _‘ridiculous schemes’_ ? If you have such a problem with it, maybe tell me-- or don’t offer your help at all. I’ll understand! But the thing is you choose to talk about me behind my back to someone you just met, and someone who _already hates me._ ”

“Lila _doesn’t_ hate you!” She doesn’t love her, but that’s not Lila’s fault. If Marinette were just a little more welcoming, maybe. Despite this, Alya feels her gut sink as her friend’s words sink in. She sighs, exasperated. “Mari-”

“Don’t lie to me. I _hate_ liars. And you think that’s what I care about? I couldn’t care less about what Lila thinks of me because _I_ _hate her_.”

“But you _just_ said-”

“It’s not about whether we get along or not. This is about _you_. If you already know I don’t like Lila, why do you keep on insisting we hang out? If you’re _so considerate_ of _my_ feelings, you’d understand that she makes me uncomfortable. Of course I’m bound to spend less time with you if I’m uncomfortable.”

“Tha-”

“And what’s this about _me_ being inconsiderate of _your_ feelings? Haven’t you noticed just how much I do for you guys? I’m not asking for anything in return- but a little _faith_ would be nice, Alya. Instead of getting in my face the moment I slip up and invalidating my feelings for something as petty as _jealousy_.”

Alya has no words. Marinette’s keep coming like spitfire and she has no retaliation.

“Oh! There’s Alya and Marinette!”

And like that, the conversation is over. Marinette plasters a sugar sweet smile on her face and turns to an approaching pair of students, Rose and Juleka. While Rose is gushing over a booklet of glitter-filled stickers she and Juleka had bought on sunday, Alya is studying Marinette’s lively face and animated gestures. Which a moment ago had been speaking low but jagged words, sky blue eyes shadowed and stormy, hands digging tightly into a binder clutched to her chest like armor.

“Me, Juleka, Mylene, and Ivan wanted to get ice cream after school from Andre’s! Wanna come with? Nino and Adrien can come, too!” Rose sing-songs, definitely hinting at a group date.

“I have to stay after school for a bit, and I can’t hang out for long, but I’d love to if you’re willing to wait.” She makes brief eye contact with Alya out of the corner of her eye. “Why don’t we invite Lila?”

Her eyes burn like blue fire.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Alya shudders at the recall of cool blue eyes observing her, like waiting for her next words to counter. No babbling, no stuttering, no outrageous worst case scenarios she had had to talk her down from. Their little ‘date’ to Andre’s there had been no more words exchanged between the two girls, and in the end Alya watches Marinette walk away from them with an uneasy twist in her heart. On the walk home with Nino, she stays especially quiet until she voices her concern. “She’s acting weird.”

“Who, Marinette?” Nino pulls her in with an arm draped across her shoulders to whisper into her ears with a sneaky grin. “Did you see how close she was to Adrien? Maybe she’s just feeling confident today. It looks like she’s in a good mood to me.”

_Speaking low but jagged words, sky blue eyes shadowed and stormy, hands digging tightly into a binder clutched to her chest like armor._

“...I don’t know about that. Did you see how forward she was with Lila?”

Every time the brown-haired girl had started another one of her extravagant stories, Marinette wouldn’t hesitate to either cut her off with excessive questions or change the topic entirely, asking any of the other girls about themselves, sometimes ruining the mood unapologetically. “While she does challenge Lila a lot, she’s normally a lot more reserved than that.”

“Kind of uncool, but…” Nino appears to be a little troubled at this observation. “Well. You know Marinette. When she’s passionate she can get a little carried away. I don’t think she means harm.”

That’s bull. Marinette had been trying to drag Lila down. Alya wonders if it was to get back at her for their argument. Her brow furrows. No, Marinette isn’t like that… but Marinette isn’t exactly being herself, today. Alya brushes it off. Nino is right. Maybe it’s just some extra confidence.

“Yeah. Okay.”

 

And how can that be so bad?

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

**_...(_ **

 

“You’ve really outdone yourself, Hawkmoth! You’ve drowned Paris before- but to create a whole world within the confines of a compact mirror? Beautiful.” She gives a giddy little twirl and stops to admire herself in her own vanity, enamored with the gloss of vibrant liquid eyes, so different from the usual bluebells. “You’re the poetic type, aren’t you?”

“What’s going on, where are you?” A glowing purple outline of a butterfly frames the girl’s delicate features, and she gets annoyed because it obscures her view from her reflection. Everyone else is preoccupied with their own business- making it her only chance to freely look at herself without the chance of another listening in on her conversation- and _he's blocking her view_. Huffing in annoyance, she stops to look out her window towards the dark sky.

Here, there’s not really any concept of time. Some places are brighter, and some different depending on their perception of the real world.

 

Where the stars should be blinking back at her she only sees pitch blackness.

 

She muses, half to herself, “We’ve always been pretty mentally strong. She’s probably repressing the akuma somehow.” 

“And who are you, exactly? How did you get to my akuma?”

“Don’t worry, Hawkmoth. You’ve got the right girl.”

Hawkmoth’s voice sounds impatient and stern, and she has the image of a greedy, old-fashioned man. “You need to get me the miraculouses.”

“I’m not exactly in the position to do that yet. Once I get my body, you’ll get your jewelry. You’ll just have to be patient.” She frowns. She doesn’t like people telling her what to do.

“This is a waste of my time.”

A smirk creeps up the girl’s face. “You don’t even know how to take the akuma back, do you? That explains so much.”

“Doppelgänger, I command you to-”

“- _Don’t_ give me that god awful name. I know what you’re trying to do. You can’t hurt me while I don’t have a physical body. And I’m no doppelgänger. I’m me.” Hawkmoth surrenders once he’s seen that her eyes had turned an inky black, and only once he’s relented do her eyes flicker back into their normal color.

“For now, you can call me Marinette. And try to limit your communication with me, if we want this to work. We don’t want the _other’s_ to find out, do we?”

**_)..._ **

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Marinette has been light on her feet all day, much more comfortable in her own skin than she had ever been so far. This entire weekend she had been able to think clearly and sleep well at night, and finish everything she’d been meaning to without getting distracted.

Though.

She’s curious as to why it feels like she isn’t as busy as before, and while it’s nice it also feels like she's forgetting something. Especially like tonight, she's fulfilled all of her duties, but she sits in her room not able to wrap her mind around this feeling that she's late to something very important. Did she have an appointment? Maybe she just had bad time management before? Without anxiety she really does feel like she’s thinking a little more clearly, and she’s more organized. She even has time to spare to help close the bakery and eat dinner with her parents and care for the garden at night, but as she does these things something urgent nags at the back of her mind.

Red, “Hello, Marinette. You had a productive day today, good job.”

Yellow, “Um, you talked to _Adrien_ today.  _G_ _ _r_ eat _job!”

Green, “Except Lila was there to ruin things.”

Blue, “If he says we’re just a friend one more time I’m _done_. He needs to get a clue.”

Purple, “I wish there was a way to get him to notice us more.”

Grey, “It's more our fault he doesn't. If only we could be more honest.”

Pink, “But we still made progress today! Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Anger snaps, “Let’s just make him jealous! That’ll knock some sense into him!”

Fiery blue fades into a pale pink. Love scolds her, “That’s awful! You can’t use another person for that. Also, say Adrien _did_ return our feelings, that would hurt him and you could never forgive yourself if you made him feel that way.”

Eyes turn purple, and Desire questions her. “By ‘feel that way’ do you mean want to fight for us? Want to be with us?”

Love argues back. “I mean insecure, heartbroken, and angry. Don’t put him through that.”

Back to green. “Ugh, fine! Enough of this moping! It’s annoying. And take down those posters! How can you work like this?”

Red. Duty’s eyes are strict and unsmiling. “Focus on your work. You’ve had enough of Adrien Agreste today, it’s time for learning now. You’re struggling in math, right?”

Yellow. Happiness squeals. “One last thing! You saw his bed head today right?! We don’t get to see _that_ often! So cute!”

Pink. “I agree! Adrien’s adorable.”

Purple. “I have to agree, too.”

Green. “This is hopeless.”

Marinette is content to lay on her stomach in front of her tablet, kicking her feet behind her absentmindedly. She watches the mirror’s eyes flicker through rainbows with mild amusement, comforted by the chatter. (For some reason she feels used to keeping the little compact in the small purse she wears daily, glued to her side like a little companion she can whisper to in between classes and after dinner in her room all by herself.)

She feels so nice. Her shirt rides up a little awkwardly if she shifts too much on her front, but the round lavender carpet is pleasantly pillowed against the soft skin of her belly. Her window is kept open ajar to let a gentle breeze in, cold kissing her high cheekbones every now and then. She feels so nice.

Grey. Gloom’s eyes are dull and downturned. “We yelled at Alya today…”

Purple. “Alya gave us more than her two cents on friday. It’s only fair we get to say what we wanted, too.”

Marinette tries to tune back out of the conversation, not really wanting to address the way things had gone at lunch. Though Marinette hadn’t felt ill at ease hanging out with them today, the tension in the air had been palpable, not to mention that the girls seem closer to Lila more than ever. From the sleepover, no doubt.

A wave hits her- Marinette suddenly realizes she’s still angry, almost alarmingly so. She does so much for her friends. Like making them presents, baking them pastries and breads, how she still tries to meet up with them no matter how busy she is with homework, school, the bakery, chores, designing, and--

 

(Is there more to that? There has to be more than that.)

 

Does she really have enough time to dote on her dear friends, but doesn’t manage her time well enough for them? Is she really being a bad friend for being so frustrated and petty with them? Is her anger and frustration towards Alya unfair and misdirected?

The voices of her emotions have gone silent next to her.

“Alya would never understand the lengths you go through for your friends! It’s not _your_ fault you can never confide in her for something she would never understand. How _dare_ she say we’re a bad friend.” Anger insists, finally.

Yeah… how dare she!

 

_Forgive more often._

 

Ah. Right.

But for some reason that feels… she can’t let it go. “Why not? Why can’t I confide in Alya? She’s my best friend. I should feel comfortable enough to tell her anything, so why don’t I? Am I really not her best friend?”

Marinette feels unbearably sad all of a sudden.

Blue. “Gloom, stop that!”

Grey. “I’m sorry!

Blue. “For crying out loud- do you always have to be such a fucking drag?”

Duty brings the rant to a halt with a piercing red gaze. “We can do this without the name calling and the cursing, Anger. Don’t start any drama.”

Pink. “Marinette, any thoughts?”

Marinette isn’t sure why she should answer when it’s apparent that they’re able to know what she’s thinking, anyways. “I’m not nervous anymore and it’s great. But I’ve been feeling a little moodier than usual at school.”

Love’s eyes are kind. “It doesn’t hurt to voice your feelings.”

There’s a giggle. Yellow eyes blink back at her. “Just like those pep talks in front of the vanity!”

Green. “Those didn’t even do anything. They just made us feel stupid.”

“Aw, don’t be so negative, Disgust!”

Pink. “Anything else, Marinette?”

“I have a question.” she wonders. “Why is it that some of you speak more than the others?”

Red. “We’re more important to you.”

Love seems to disagree with that statement. “Some of us might just have more of your attention, and therefore have more influence over you. But we’re all important.”

Purple. “Not all of us are, actually.” Desire snips.

Blue. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

Desire comes back to address Marinette directly. “Think about it. You’ve been feeling moody around your friends lately, right? You can’t possibly focus on your work now, can you? Don’t lie, I can see your homework from here. You haven’t gotten anything done.”

Red. “That can’t be good. Your fight with Alya has been bothering you, hasn’t it? You shouldn’t dwell on what’s been said and done already. You can deal with it when the time is right. Which isn’t now.”

Purple. “Your anger is making you irrational. We want to be able to think clearly.”

Red. Duty clicks her tongue. “Your negative emotions must be stunting your productivity.”

Yellow. “Yeah, let’s stay positive! Don’t let Gloom, Disgust, and Anger drag you down!”

“That’s not all I’m worried about.” Marinette elaborates. “I want to apologize again to Alya. But I’m still so angry, I don’t know if I can.”

Red. “The first thing to do would be to set aside your pride.”

Purple. “Which she can’t do when she’s still so conflicted.”

 

There’s another beat of silence.

 

Yellow. “I volunteer Disgust!”

Green. “ _Excuse me?_ ”

Yellow. “C’mon take one for the team!”

Marinette is surprised when Joy leans in even closer, now only the corners of wide eyes and sunshine pupils visible. She whispers unnecessarily, “She’s just so toxic, Mari! She’d be the best to go!”

Marinette stammers. “W-who said anyone is going?”

The face backs up, now with furious acid greens. “Do you want her to become a sociopath? She already got rid of anxiety. She needs to have _some_ semblance of embarrassment. I’m the one who keeps reminding her how important it is to shower.”

Red. “I can take that job.”

Disgust scoffs in return. “Please. You’re willing to sacrifice hygiene if it means a couple more minutes at work. Marinette, who else is going to make sure your outfits match in the morning? Or that your breath doesn’t stink? Leave it to _these_ guys and Adrien’s gonna get a second look at your pj’s at school tomorrow.”

Purple. “ _I_ want Marinette to look nice, too-- so if you think about it you’re pretty unneeded, Disgust.”

“You want to impress people and look nice, yeah. But I’m behind the scenes, Mari-and that’s a _chore_ to the others. Clipping your toenails? Me. Washing your makeup brushes? Also me. Cleaning your room? Me. Joke that’s not funny? I’m the one who bites your tongue. Wiping after you-”

“Okay! I get it!” Marinette groans. Head aching from the sudden uproar of many emotions trying to reach her at once. “Anyone else up to the job?”

Pink. “I’m not with this or against this, okay? But I’d like to ask you to please think of your mental health before making any more decisions. Are you really alright with sacrificing more of yourself?”

“Thanks, Love. But to be honest this _is_ for my mental health. If I keep going the way I am I’m gonna burn myself out.”

Pink-eyed Marinette fades away to purple. “So? What’s it gonna be?”

“... I guess I should start with the negative ones.”

Red. “Negative is a subjective term. Please be specific.”

“If I want to make things better with Alya, I need to set aside my anger.”

Red eyes burst into blue flames. “ _What!_ Marinette, don’t you _fucking dare!_ ”

Marinette looks at herself in the little mirror with the decency to show regret. “I’m sorry, Anger.”

 

* * *

 

 

Meanwhile, on the rooftops of Paris, Chat Noir overlooks the city with a clear frown on his face. It disappears quickly every time a civilian might wave up to him in recognition, but his head is consistent of disappointment and frustration and worry. Ladybug never misses a patrol night.

"I guess she's not coming." He says after a half hour of wandering the streets, knowing his lady can easily catch up with her communicator. 

Regardless, at the top of the Eiffel Tower Chat Noir sits all by himself, still waiting. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her mother once called her fire on chinese new year. She’d talked about about how people were made of the elements.

Some people are stone. Some are water.

Marinette is made of fire.

She burns brilliantly and relentlessly.

She glows as a gentle guiding flame.

Like warmth and hope and love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

That night, Marinette douses those flames,

and breathes a sigh of relief.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Anger, stop hitting Happiness. Fear, get out of under the bed. Envy, Jealousy, quit arguing over who loves love more.”  
> “Woo-hoo!”  
> “Oh, great. Bravery's on the roof again.” 
> 
> \-- Cosmo, "Emotion Commotion" Fairly Odd Parents, season 4, episode 16
> 
>  
> 
> a tiny comic!  
> https://sternsneeze.tumblr.com/post/185719072557/just-a-very-tiny-scene-from-my-akumanette-fanfic


	8. Without Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Morty, what if the toxic parts of us have their own identities, their own will to live?”
> 
> \--Rick and Morty, “Rest and Ricklaxation” (Rick and Morty, season 3 episode 6)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be changing parts of this chapter in the future-- so I didn't spend too much time editing it. Please excuse me for any grammar mistakes or typos.

A mighty _thump_ of black boots meeting thin carpet announces the entrance of Chat Noir coming in through his bedroom window, immediately de-transforming with a flash of green lightning. Adrien feels the rush of ancient magic flush out of his body, leaving bare fleshy human skin vulnerable to the cold air of winter. Adrien is quick to grab a hoodie and slip it on, shutting his window firmly. “Do you think she’s alright?”

“Who?” The answer comes from a lazy black cat who’s already curled up in his luxurious bed with tightly shut eyes straight after coming back from their night at work.

“Ladybug!” Adrien scowls. “Who else?”

“You got patrol done without her right? Paris is safe, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Ladybug never misses patrol, though! She’s never even late. What if she’s hurt somewhere!”

“Good grief Adrien, it’s only one night.” Plagg grumbles but then studies the perturbed expression on his holder’s face with a single open eye. He sighs.  “Was pigtail girl in class today?”

“This is hardly the time for-”

“Did she have that little bag she always wears by her side?”

“Yes. Plagg, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking that her purse always smells so good. She must have some snacks in there!” He gives an exaggerated hum of delight and close his eyes shut again. “Maybe during class tomorrow I’ll nap in there instead!”

“Plagg, I’m being serious!”

“I’m tellin’ ya you’re thinking about this too much, kid! Ladybug is fine. Something in her civilian life must have kept her from coming to patrol.” He makes a mental note to visit his sugar cube the next morning to confirm that nothing is wrong and keep his boy from combusting. “Now get to bed already. I spend every night listening to you blabber on about true love without a break and you stayed out longer than usual tonight to wait for Ladybug to show up.”

“I’m worried, Plagg.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well right now, there’s really not much you can do but hope she shows up to the next patrol, or the next attack.”

Plagg knows he’s said the wrong thing when the skin between Adrien’s eyebrows crease. “We haven’t had an akuma attack for days…I should keep my guard up. Ever since Hero’s Day we know he’s actually capable of making real plans. He might be up to something...”

“Even if he was, I doubt it’ll be anything you couldn’t handle.” Plagg suggests when Adrien trails off, deep in thought.

Adrien’s stomach sinks a little lower. He swallows and ignores the lazy kwami. “But if that’s the case, Ladybug has even more reason to come to patrol. We need to strategize and keep up with each other.”

Plagg stretches into a more comfortable position, snoring loudly, and Adrien finally accepts that he won’t be getting any useful feedback until he and Ladybug finally get a chance to talk.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_**…(** _

She walks about the empty streets away from the others, taking in the clear skies. It’s really just like home, just without the bustle of people and busy noises. There are no clouds, and sometimes she’ll notice some inconsistency with the environment, only for it to quickly correct itself to her tastes.

She notices that in the places she likes more the greater the details in colors and texture and even weather, but the roads where she doesn’t pay much attention to getting between locations are short and indistinguishable. Places like home, the park, and the stairs in front of the tower she sometimes sits to sketch and watch the pigeons are generated from memory and are almost an exact replica. The Louvre, too, though only the art pieces she likes seem to be in the right places, everything else seems like a random maze of ornate corridors.

The school is pretty accurate, too. It should be quiet and mainly unoccupied now that Anxiety is snoozing away, finally at peace. But the place makes her skin crawl so she avoids it like the plague. The others choose to reside in places they’re partial to, but she likes to stay away from where they can nag her about their personal dramas.

She pauses to inspect the fountain where she and Adrien had ducked into to hide from his fans that once, and she sighs at the giddiness in her belly. Here in the Place des Vosges the sky is much bluer and the air feels warm from the memory of a light ghost of sunlight. She likes to sit here on her own time, when Marinette is busy at school or the bakery and doesn’t consult them or crave their attentions. Now that she’s far enough from them, she reaches out.

“Hawkmoth? You there?”

She’s met by silence. She huffs, exasperated.

As she can recall, there are several akumas within the week, nearly every other day. It’s annoying how one-sided the deal is, needing to fix itself around his busy schedule. She plops down onto a bench, the metal cool against slender thighs. She relaxes her body so that her head can lean back lazily. “Honestly, do you even have the time to be a super villain? I want to get out of here, already. A little teamwork would be nice.”

In terms of her powers- she doesn’t have much of it right now. Only the tell tale glow of her eyes and those of her counterparts back at “home.” As she'd explained to the villain before, Marinette is fighting off the akuma in her head, whether she's fully aware of it or not. By the splintering of her mind she's somehow been able to compartmentalize parts of her personality. Meaning the akuma is not in control. If she wants access to all of what the Hawkmoth has to offer her, she has to play this game right. But it’s a lot of waiting, and she doesn't have the most patient boss. She chuckles to herself. “All this for some pieces of jewelry.”

She stands and makes her way over to the drained fountain. A gentle palm is pressed to it’s edge and she watches it gurgle to life, water spilling down the center to pool around the sides. She wishes she can see herself on its surface, but she hasn't made the water deep enough so when she peers down she can only see the bottom. She plays by hitting at the shallow depths, scattering tiny drops around her clothing. “What should I do…”

Past akumas have gotten a lot of attention from Ladybug and Chat Noir because they’d had flashy powers and an army of a sort, and were easily taken down. But right now they are completely unaware that an akuma is even active. She can use their cluelessness to her advantage, though she knows that things can easily turn on her if they catch even a whiff of her activity while she’s vulnerable. Their guards are certainly up the longer Paris goes without word of an attack, and she supposes that the best course of action would be to stay undercover as she explores the extent of her powers. Meaning, she might still have to play the waiting game for a little longer even when she’s out. She’ll be working alone for the time being and attain some allies in some way to protect her, without being too obvious.

She hasn’t thought past getting out of her own head too much, only vaguely knowing of how to get to that point. With the akuma subdued she knows she can call herself one of his more rational champions, most of the others motivated for their own needs. She can be the same, of course, but she in this state she can think clearly and have a plan to keep both her and her benefactor happy. But with the extent of her powers still unknown, an actual detailed plan is still up in the air.

“You’d better have given me something good.” She mutters to no one, no longer awaiting a response.

**_…)_ **

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mlle. Bustier’s class is a small one- only counting fifteen attending students in total. So when there are eight less of them than usual before the bell that morning, including most of his closest friends, it’s easy to notice. Adrien knows something is up, and so he turns on his foot to back out of the room to look around before another classmate can approach him.

It’s not hard to find them. They’re all grouped together on the nearest staircase that he hadn’t passed on the way to class. Alix, Mylene, Juleka, Rose, Lila, and Nino are listening closely to a dejected looking Alya. Adrien approaches with caution, something like dread turning in his stomach. They don’t notice him, but he’s not surprised. He’s always been light on his feet, especially since becoming the cat hero. “She apologized to me, but we still fought. And then she didn’t speak to me for the rest of the day. I mean I expected her to text me at least, but she never did.”

“What are you gonna do?” Lila asks. She pushes her milk chocolate hair out of her face, ivy eyes round and innocent.

“Do _I_ have to be the one to do something? Why does it feel like I’m the only one putting in the effort?” Her expression dulls.“It gets… exhausting being her friend, sometimes.”

Adrien suddenly feels the need to butt in- even if he feels bad that he’s not part of this conversation. “I don’t think you should say that, Alya. She’s your best friend.”

Thankfully, she doesn’t get offended by his meddling, but the others do whip around in shock. Alya still looks low in spirits. “Well what do you expect? I know how she is. She means well, but she’s always in the middle of drama.”

He wants to give her sympathy. He does. But after that last comment he feels heat pound through his blood and he grits his teeth. His gaze sharpens against his will to stay gentle with Alya, who just looks so sad. Lila gives him a slow once-over and says, “Listen, Adrien, give her a break.”

“Lila, please, this doesn’t really have anything to do with you.” He tries to take a calming breath.

“Alya is my friend, so yes, it does. I knew girls like Marinette at my old school. They would lie to the people around them and play a helpless victim for sympathy. You guys want us to be friends but I can only agree with her on one thing. We can’t get along.”

“Funny, cause she said the same thing about you.” This gets everyone’s attention, but Lila is quick to counter, eyes flashing.

“How many times has she ditched you? Or fallen short on deadlines and things she’s responsible for? I care about you, and I hate to see you being taken for a fool when you’re probably the smartest person I know.”

“Alya, please don’t listen to her.” he pleads softly.

“She’s being honest, you can’t just deny her feelings.”

 _Ha._ As if Lila would know anything about honesty.Adrien repeats. “She’s your _best_ friend”

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way, Adrien.”

His blood boils. Marinette is nothing but wonderful to him. To all of them. She’s sweet and loyal and always looking out for people, to the point where she’s the one who gets hurt, in the end. He casts a hard look between all of them, looking over the girls one by one in disdain, settling on Lila for the longest. “Marinette is the kind of person who _ends_ drama. If you don’t realize that by now, you must not know her as well as you think you do.”

He thinks about how not long before, how he had forcibly been kept in from the outside world, only allowed to see people for his father’s business reasons and his want for Adrien to be a well rounded child. Piano, basketball, soccer, ballroom dancing, modeling, acting, mandarin, fencing, homeschooling-- all of them private tutors. No other kids his age but Chloé. No one to show off these fancy, essentially _worthless,_ skills he has to, no one to learn with, to talk to or listen to.

Marinette had been his first ever real friend.

One who knows he’s not allowed too many sweets, but she bakes him pastries anyways because she knows he loves them. One who listens to him mope about girls and understands the pain of growing up with Chloé. One who supports him in everything he does yet is constantly surprising him herself with her talent and kindness. One who makes him warm inside, after the cold his mother left behind. One who he found out that, not too long ago, had remained friendless herself until Alya.

Alya, who says it gets _exhausting_ being her friend.

Marinette has so much love to share with the world, and they take her for granted.

“I’m sorry if I’ve intruded but I couldn’t help it. You don’t talk about friends that way.” Adrien takes after his mother’s soft features and spring green irises, but in this moment they’re all struck by how much he resembles stone cold Gabriel Agreste. His words become scathing. _“_ Maybe you aren’t her friend. It’s not like you’re acting like one. _”_

He takes another breath, his resolve breaking a little with is last words. “But she was yours.”

No one tries to catch up to him as he marches away.

* * *

 

Most of the girls avoid talking to Adrien the rest of that day, shying away if they so much as make eye contact. Nino makes some awkward small talk but eventually stop when Adrien refuses to cut him slack. Alya may be his girlfriend, but the three of them had been friends before that. To hear him stay compliant with another one of them talking shit about Marinette when just the day before he’d been defending her rubs him the wrong way. It makes him question his sense of loyalty.

He’s already thoroughly grown sick of being pissed off by the time their morning lectures are over, but then Rose makes herself one of the only ones brave enough to come up to him, eyes drooping and heavy with tears.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to defend Marinette, Adrien! I’m doing my best to be a good friend to everyone! I’ll apologize to Marinette right away!” She continues to blubber on at lunch, unaware of the group of girls lingering behind her a few steps away. He gives them all a pointed look, but none of them meet his eyes except a poker faced Lila.

“Rose, you should go get lunch.” Adrien suggests. “They’re waiting for you. And you probably don’t have to apologize to Marinette, just make sure to be an honest friend to her and I think she’ll be thankful. You’ve done enough crying today. It’s okay.”

She nods vigorously, and lets him send her off.

Nino is with Alya, and Adrien has no one to have lunch with today when he catches no sight of the girl everyone seems to be talking about today. Calling his driver up, he goes with the Gorilla to eat at home on his own. Once he’s situated himself on the cool leather seats without another look from his driver he pops open the side pocket of his book bag to let his little god of destruction breathe. “You hungry?”

“Always.” The kwami groans a little too loudly. Adrien has to check to see if the Gorilla has noticed. He shushes him and hands him a piece of stinky cheese, which he takes without any thanks.

“By the way, you didn’t snoop around my classmates’ stuff, did you?” Adrien recalls their conversation about his pigtailed classmate from last night.

Plagg stops mid bite. He grumbles. “She didn’t have cookies. Just one of those makeup boxes your assistants carry around at your photoshoots. You humans are too concerned with your looks.”

“And you’re too nosy. Teaches you a thing or two about snooping through other people’s things. You’ll just get bored.” Adrien distracts himself with his phone, and doesn’t catch the flash of concern that crosses the kwami’s face. The god tucks himself under Adrien’s chin into the collar of his crisp white overshirt, where the human won’t be able to read his face.

“Nope! It didn’t teach me a damn thing. I’m not convinced a baker’s daughter doesn’t keep cookies on her person. I’ll just have to look harder!” Plagg exclaims brightly. Adrien feels the force of him swallowing against his neck. “I hope I’ll find a sugarcube, at the very least, somewhere.”

* * *

 

 _“Ugh! What do you mean he went home already!”_ The blonde stamps a foot. The group is annoyed with being stopped on the way to lunch for her to ask Nino about Adrien’s whereabouts. She glares with intense blue oceans when they just stare at her. Nino rolls his eyes. After the morning’s events he has no patience to deal with any of Chloé’s tantrums.

“I mean, no one could eat lunch with him and went home.” He deadpans.

“I always have time for my Adrikins.” Chloé snaps.

“That’s sweet and all, but you just missed him. Just ring him up.” Nino smoothly excuses himself to leave with Alya and the others.

“By the time I meet up with him he’d of already eaten. Ridiculous.” Chloé takes those aggravating little stomps with Sabrina following closely behind. “Sabrina! Call one of my per-”

“Chloé Bourgeois.” She swears one of her veins are about to erupt. She’s in the middle of talking. The nerve of some people. She whips around furiously to regard the brat with a raised chin.

"Aurore." The weather girl. As far as Chloé knows, this girl has no business speaking to someone like the mayor’s daughter. So she's on television from time to time- she didn't even win the contest at first and only got the position when the winner stepped down. What makes this reject think she can interrupt her lunch plans? She crosses her arms and pops a hip in an attempt to intimidate. “What do you want.”

To anyone’s shock, the other blonde appears to be uncomfortable, teal eyes shifting from side to side like she doesn’t know how to handle the situation, shoulders hunched and small and defensive. It just makes it easier for Chloé to be able to stand a little taller. “One of your classmates is crying in the bathroom.”

Chloé raises a brow. That concerns her in _what_ way? “And why should that matter to me.”

The Kidz star switches gears quite quickly. Her eyes narrow and her voice comes out in a low growl, “Because you’re a supposed to be a superhero, one of your jobs being preventing akumas. Now go get her so I can do my business in peace.”

Chloé only harrumphs and tosses golden locks over a yellow shoulder. “I don’t need you to tell me that. I know how to do my job as Ladybug’s number one girl. Which bathroom is it.”

Aurore looks unimpressed, fixing her a flat stare. “The one on this floor?”

The blonde tosses a wink and struts in the direction of the girl’s washroom.

Chloé hates public restrooms, no matter how good of a condition her school might keep them in, and she makes no show of hiding it when she kicks the door open in a resounding _bang_ , face screwing up into a grimace. She instantly hears the echo of small sniffles and cries. Sabina pipes up, “I think it’s coming from the second stall.”

Oh, she’s still here? “I knew that already.”

“Sorry, Chloé!”

The two march over to knock on the door. Sabrina starts with polite taps, and Chloé shoves her aside to rap her knuckles against it harsh and quick. The noise rattles against the girl’s sniveling. “Is that you, Mylenne. Quit crying and come out. You’re causing problems for me. People are actually seeking me out to deal with you and now I’m stuck getting you out of here instead of eating.”

“Mylene went to lunch with Alya and Nino, remember?” Sabrina reminds her.

There comes another sob.

“I don’t care who they are. If she gets akumatized I’ll never hear the end of it from little miss second place. They need to get out and be an inconvenience somewhere else.”

“Oh, that’s _rich_ coming from you!” comes an immediate snarl from the other side of the door. A snarl she recognizes. Chloé ducks her head to confirm brown flats and skinny pink pant legs under the green stall door.

“Dupain-Cheng?”

“Leave me alone, Chloé. I really, _really_ don’t want to deal with you today.”

“Fine. Have it your way. To think I had to come here for you, of all people. What a waste of my time.” Chloé scorns, “See what happens when I try to be nice? The things I do for Ladybug!”

Chloé starts to tap away at her gold phone screen, flipping through her schedule to find the number of her lunch reservations to forward. She might be late because Dupain-Cheng is being a brat, and if anyone cancels her plans she’s going to have that someone fired. “Sabrina, call this number and confirm my table.”

“Oui, Chloé!” Sabrina says dutifully, and the redhead leaves the bathroom in hurried footsteps to take the call outside.

The squeak of a door opening piques the blonde’s interest, and Chloé keeps a nonchalant expression and her eyes down at her nails, waiting for her nemesis to ask for her attention, as it should be. She hears the clearing of a throat and a couple sniffles, but she still doesn’t look up until Dupain-Cheng finally speaks up, sounding regretful. “Sorry. That was mean. I might not understand why, but thanks for checking up on me anyway.”

“As if I care about you. I’m just doing my job as Queen Bee.”

That evokes a humorless chuckle from the dark-haired one. “Still. That’s new.”

Chloé takes her attention away from her nails to look at the girl in front of her. She looks absolutely hideous. Her eyes are puffy and red, and her nose is kind of drippy and disgusting. She doesn’t blame Aurore for retreating from the bathroom, if she’d seen her at all (despite the fact that Marinette has come to the girl's rescue from Chloé herself multiple times- what a snake. Chloé could laugh). As much as she wants to recoil, the two of them hold each other’s gaze like they’re waiting for the person’s next move. Competitive as always.

Marinette loses. She shuts her stall door with a glare.

Chloé huffs. How childish.

“Chloé! They still have your spot.” Sabrina calls in again, opening the bathroom entrance with an eager-to-please expression. “They’ll give us more time.”

Really. Chloé could and should leave Marinette to drown in her own tears. They’ve never been on friendly terms- she doubts that they’ll ever be. It was like. One of the laws of their universe. Seriously, there’s no need for her to attend her little pity party.

But then she hears Marinette whimpering again like a fucking puppy.

“Tell them to get me another seat for my table.”

Sabrina doesn’t normally question her boss-- her _friend’s_ decisions. “Huh? But Adrien isn’t...”

The stall door opens a peep, only wide enough for one big blue eye to gaze at her in wonder.

“Did I stutter, Sabrina? Call and tell them we need another seat!”

* * *

 

It’s been a strange day- and she’s only about half way through it.

“Are you going to eat or what. Don’t waste my money.” Chloé drawls across from her.

Marinette questions herself. Since when does she follow orders from Chloé? But then again, since when does Chloé treat her to lunch?

The other girl must be able to read exactly what’s going on in Marinette’s head, because she looks smug and says in a teasing lilt of her nasally voice. “Well. Aren't you being rude? You’re going to reject my act of kindness over a little rivalry? I thought you were so much more mature than that, mademoiselle class president.”

“I wouldn’t call years of bullying a ‘ _little rivalry_.’” Marinette comments, but spears her meal into her mouth anyways. She can tell her nemesis gets a little uncomfortable from the excruciatingly awkward silence that follows, and Marinette chews slowly as she watches Chloé apprehensively. The blonde has her fork in a tight grip, her glare lacking it’s usual ire. The food going down her throat settles like a rock in her stomach. She clears her throat.

“You’re right, though. I appreciate you paying for lunch.” Marinette means this. The cafe she’s chosen is small and, at first glance, not unlike the boulangeries stationed basically at every corner of Paris, but upon entering it’s hard not to notice the stylish interiors and classy furniture. It’s a sit down diner. Marinette had gone to the restroom to clean up her puffy eyes and nose before eating, and even their single occupant toilet is impressive, and smelling of flowers. To her relief Chloé hadn’t allowed her to view the menu prices and had ordered for her already. She’s sure it’s quite out of her price range. The girl shrugs at her gratitude, but a bit of redness is visible on her cheeks.

She wouldn’t normally accept any sort of pity from Chloé so easily. She doesn’t have that kind of maturity even if she hates to admit that. But taking in the girl dressed in her garish tones of yellow, she can’t find the part of herself that loathes her. She’s definitely annoyed-- probably Disgust’s doing. But, as expected, not angry. The purse holding the compact feels heavy at her side.

The span of their silence has extended much longer than she should have allowed it. “You're eating with me, yet you didn’t let Sabrina sit with you?”

Chloé rolls her eyes. “Please. I don’t want her getting ideas.”

Marinette feels a twinge of _something_ , yet it’s like her mind can’t quite grasp that feeling and hold onto it. She lets disgust mar her features at least, twisting her pink mouth into a grimace. “Bad ideas like what. _Friendship?_ ”

“As if eating with me would make us friends.”

Her heart clenches painfully at the thought of the girl with the glasses. “You don’t seem to care much about her at all. Where is she right now, even?”

“I sent her to pick up my dry cleaning,” her answer is simple and unbothered. It irks her.

“Don’t you have an errand person who can do that for you? She needs to eat, doesn’t she?” Two sets of blue eyes pierce each other across the table.

“She can eat when she’s done. Who needs a butler when I have someone like Sabrina? You can say I trust her more than anyone else.”

“If you actually trusted her you would let her in. Your relationship right now is something like between master and servant. Seems unhealthy to me,” Marinette responds.

“I know what’s right for me.”

“No, I don’t think you do. You need real friends.”

Chloé scoffs and swallows, smiling in disbelief. She sets her silverware down a little too hard. “I almost forgot that you think you know _everything_.”

“I’m just saying that if you’re trying so hard to be nice you should start with improving the relationships you already have.”

“Duh! Why else do you think I’m having lunch with you?"

“We don’t have a relationship. This,” Marinette gestures between them, “is _not_ a relationship.”

“We do. It’s not a good one. But it exists. Do you want me to pay for your lunch, or not?”

Marinette shuts herself up. Chloé gives a her a haughty look as she takes a spoonful of her food into her mouth. She speaks again once the french-chinese girl takes a bite and can’t interrupt her. “Besides. Don’t act like you know so much about _healthy relationships_. Why don’t I ever hear you preach to your so-called ‘real friends?’ You were crying in the bathroom because of them, weren’t you? You heard something you weren’t supposed to hear, didn’t you? Lila might be lying to them, but the rest of it? All their authentic selves. You think they would have changed all that much from just last year- before you grew a spine?”

Marinette can't respond. There’s something so very ugly building up in her chest, crawling up her throat.

“Seriously, if you think about the way you let them walk all over you all the time, you can’t say your dynamic is much different than ours. To them, you’re what Sabrina is to me, albeit more subtle. The rest of you can’t understand the beauty of our relationship. I don’t hide anything. When I want something from Sabrina I tell her.” Chloé scoffs. “You value honesty? Then get friends with clear intentions. Like me.”

“You’re a bully.”

Chloé’s laugh is ugly and mirthless.“You know what you need? _To open your eyes._ You’re naive. And they’re fake. Greedy, loser _sheep_ , just like everyone else. The more you enable them the more you’ll be like them. What was it that you said to me that one time? What’s necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing? Please. They’re hardly _good people_.”

Chloé looks up curiously when she doesn’t get a response. Ocean eyes go wide and lips purse around fork teeth upon seeing Marinette’s quivering lip and glassy eyes dripping with salty tears.

“Um…”

 

Marinette is ashamed to say that she had broken into atrociously loud wails.

* * *

 

The slam of their front door followed by a rush thudding footsteps catches the large man’s attention, and Tom Dupain witnesses his darling little girl taking the stairs by two’s to get to her room in a mess of tears. He sets the rolling pin down and wipes his heavily powdered hands distractedly on his apron, moving away from the kitchen counter towards the steps. His wife’s sweet call comes from the opened front door down the hall to the house’s main entrance and bakery. “Tom, was that the door?”  

“Marinette just came home!” He calls back.

“Is she okay? Did she trip?”

“I’ll take care of it.” Tom reassures Sabine and climbs the steep stairs. He knocks on the hard ceiling where the trapdoor is. “Marinette, what’s wrong?”

A sniffle. He tries to lift it only to meet with unmoving weight. She must have piled her furniture on top of the entrance to her room again. He can’t budge it with such unsteady footing on the staircase.

“Sweetheart?”

“Go _away_ , Papa.”

He decides to leave her alone until dinner, but that night Marinette leaves her mother and father to eat quietly by themselves, hearts earning a new crack every time they hear her sobs.

* * *

 

_  
It gets exhausting being her friend._

 

Marinette whimpers to herself, digging her face deeper into her pillow in shame when she recalls those words meant for her that morning.

 

Her throat hurts from subduing wrenching sobs, which choke coming up her throat and hurt just as much shoving back down. Never to be heard. In the background she can hear her own voice trying to soothe her, Love telling her that Chloé is just a troubled girl and Alya is just hurt and doesn’t mean any of what she says. “I really hate seeing you this way. Maybe you should talk to your friends.”

Red. “You should clear things up quickly.”

Yellow. “It’s just a rough patch. Every relationship has those! I think they’ll understand!”

Green. “Friends? Are we really still calling them that?”

Purple. “Oh yeah, talking went _so well_ the first time. You don’t have to do anything. You don’t _owe_ them anything.”

Grey. “They hate us, now.”

“Marinette, please eat. You didn’t finish your lunch today and you can’t afford to lose any weight. Please? Maman is worried about you. You’ve been in bed for hours.” Pink Marinette urges and the teen tucks herself deeper into her blankets.

Duty. “Marinette, get up. You have to keep your body healthy and you’re causing trouble for your parents. Eat on time so you’ll be able to finish today’s lesson and your homework for tomorrow. You didn’t return to class after lunch break. You don’t have time to mope if you want to stay on course.”

“You still need to shower, too.” Disgust adds.

Marinette cries, “I don’t want to do anything.”

 _She doesn’t want to talk. She wants to tug at her pigtails. She wants to complain, wants to yell, wants to stomp her feet like a child, wants to tear into something, she wants to disappear._ “What’s happening? Why am I like this? Chloé doesn’t usually affect me this badly!”

Love. “She didn’t know you were fighting with Alya. She brought up painful things. Please try to calm down and then you can go talk to everyone and resolve all of this. Chloé has trust issues. Her perspective is a little... warped. Your friends love you.”

Desire ignores her. “We know exactly what you’re feeling. It’s hard to get anything done like this.”

The eyes turn green. “It’s pathetic. Get up already.”

Grey eyes and a whimper. “Why can’t we do anything right? How did we screw up so badly? Why didn’t we just apologize when we had the chance?”

Purple eyes bore into her. “She doesn’t need to apologize to anyone. If we did, then Chloé is right and we’re no better than Sabrina. Marinette, please just get up and pull yourself together. We don’t want your parents to ask questions, right?”

Pink. “It’s okay, Marinette. Don’t feel rushed. But you do have to take care of yourself, okay?”

Green. “That means showering."

Red. “And doing your homework. And eating. Your maman took time to make you dinner. You’re being rude. You also have to apologize to Chloé for wasting your food.”

Marinette gets out of bed with her hair in tangles and head feeling like it weighs ten pounds more. Once lively blue eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, lashes sticking together from melted mascara. She gets out a study guide and a crisp white lined paper to continue studying for the make up test she has for physics. However, all she can manage is directing a blank stare into the center of her textbook, unable to process what she’s looking at.

“I don’t want to eat. Or study.”

“You have to.” Duty remarks.

Marinette sobs again. Love quiets the others, then coos to her, coaxing her to wash her face and relax with a shower. She does just to get away from their comments, but she’s unable to hold in her cries once in the bathroom, ignoring her parents who listen in on her weeping.

Red. “Gloom, please get ahold of yourself.”

Grey and a couple hiccups. “I’m sorry.”

Purple. “Getting rid of both Fear and Anger must be amplifying the rest of us. She can’t get anything done like this. Right now, her sadness must really be hitting her. I don’t like this.”

Gloom sobs again. “I’m sorry!”

Love looks distraught. “Poor Marinette.”

Marinette sulks back into the bedroom with only a white towel adorning her small body, skin flushed from the scalding heat and barely dried off so that her feet leave marks on the floor. Duty scolds her, “Marinette you shouldn’t be leaving puddles where people might slip.”

Marinette picks up the mirror with an agonized look on her face. Duty sighs. “I see you’ve come back to do _that_ , then. Go on- if you think it will help with your work.”

Red eyes transition into a dull grey, pleading for forgiveness. Gloom whimpers. “I’m sorry, Marinette.”

Marinette manages a wobbly smile. “Me too.”

* * *

 

Tom tries again an hour after his daughter is done with her shower, and most likely to have dressed herself by then, and is relieved when he’s able to push past the wood trapdoor with ease. He peers in just so that half of his face is visible to the occupant of the bedroom.“Marinette? Do you want to talk now? How are you feeling, Honey?”

Marinette swivels around in her magenta computer chair, arm propping her chin up on a bent knee while the other leg lightly swings back and forth. Her face is better than when he’d last seen her locking herself in the bathroom, but he can tell she’s having a difficult time keeping her eyes open. They are thoroughly worn out from her crying, yet she fixes him a beautiful smile. “I’m okay now, Papa. I’m just studying for my make up test tomorrow.”  

“Did something happen in class again? If it’s your grades, Mama and I will be happy with whatever you get as long as you’re working hard.” The father still hasn’t taken a step up into her room, not knowing if he is welcome for a heartfelt talk if she’s so focussed on studying. His girl shakes her head, but he still pushes. “Is there anything you want to talk about? Why have you been crying?”

Marinette’s face twists into something a little unfamiliar for a moment, a bitter expression he doesn’t see darling ever use. “I just realized it’s something I shouldn’t bother with. It’s not that important to me, anymore.”

Tom is a little taken back by how she dismisses this thing that had had her crying harder than he’s ever heard her since she was a baby. But with another one of her brilliant smiles he lets it go, too. “Well, that’s good, sweetie. I’ll leave you alone for now, okay? You don’t have to go back to school if you’re not feeling well. Love you.”

She gifts him with the cutest smile.

 

“Thanks, Papa! But I’ll be fine. I love you, too.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “They’re living in pain.”  
> “That’s what they do, Rick. They live in pain. They are pain, you know? They- they’re all the bad parts of us…”
> 
> \--Rick and Morty, “Rest and Ricklaxation” (Rick and Morty, season 3 episode 6)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> The reason Marinette gets rids of Gloom is because it’s so powerful now that it’s unbearable. Sadness can become excruciating.
> 
> It’s hard to have a friend as a pushover, just as I’m sure that it’s hard to be a pushover. You’re constantly frustrated over the fact that the one you care about is okay with people taking advantage of them, and you get a feeling of them being unreliable. You also have to acknowledge the fact that it’s something they need to grow out of themselves-- that their battles aren’t yours to fight sometimes.
> 
> Also in this fic Chloé is an awful person. But she’s also a kid with trust issues trying to act older than she is and she’s so much more awkward than she realizes. She basically tells Marinette, “You hates liars right? Your friends suck and try to hide it. While you can be my friend knowing already how much I suck as a person without any pretenses.” Of course, her emotional development issues don't make her behaviour okay.
> 
> A question for the readers:  
> What is your star sign? Would you say the stereotypes of your star sign apply to you?


	9. Without Sadness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Gee, Raven, moody much?”  
> “Yeah, she's like a whole different person.”
> 
> \-- Beast Boy and Cyborg; “Nevermore” (TeenTitans, season 1, episode 6)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back ^^ 
> 
> A genuine “thank you” to those who might have been waiting for the next chapter. I’ll be slowing down updates because once the plot becomes more complicated I want to make sure everything ties together the way I want it to. This one took a while because I actually rewrote it. Several times. I’m unsure of when the next update might be, but I hope it won’t be as frustrating as this damn chapter was. 
> 
> In chapter 7, I really disliked how I worded Marinette’s side of the argument. She sounded very insincere and even manipulative (which she shouldn't have been, at that part yet), so I changed some of it. I still might go back and change more. I have a lot of difficulties writing in general-- none of it feels completely right, but I get as close as I think I can to what I want. I apologize, for that part, if anyone got the same vibe I did. 
> 
> Some things to remember:
> 
> -Each “emotion” is meant to represent important aspects of Marinette’s personality. Getting rid of an emotion transfers its power/influence to the remaining emotions. It is not always an equal distribution-- and mainly depends on what emotion/what part of herself Marinette might pay more attention to or what the situation might call for. The emotions can influence her actions but not directly control her. Emotions may sometimes feel the same, and emotions influence each other or be a result of one another. They can overlap or blend together the closer they are in agreement, values, and goals.  
> -Marinette is subconsciously suppressing the akuma. Much like she suppresses her negative emotions. One of the emotions appears to be holding the akuma (I believe I’ve been making it obvious as to which one? At least I’m trying to), and will be significantly more powerful than the rest. (keep in mind the more emotions eliminated, the more influence over Marinette the remains get. Meaning…more power to the akuma.) The akumatized emotion is communicating with Hawkmoth. Hawkmoth’s access to information is very limited right now.  
> -Because she is suppressing the akuma, she has not fully transformed and doesn’t have her full powers. She is currently a very weak akuma.  
> -Ladybug isn’t active, Adrien is worried, Plagg is getting worried. Marinette is unaware that she is even akumatized at the moment. She is unaware she is Ladybug, and has no memory of either the akuma or the miraculous.  
> -Her known active emotions are: Duty, Joy, Disgust, Desire, and Love. Don’t be surprised by mood swings and inconsistent or maybe unreliable narration on her part.

It’s strange, her throat is sore and her eyes ache from how she has to force them open because of their swelling, but her heart feels lighter than it has been in so long. She rolls across her carpet in delight, and in her peripheral vision she can see green eyes peek at her in distaste from her compact. She stops her useless wriggling and sits up to regard the band of girls, “Everything feels so...peaceful! Without sadness and anger I don’t have to deal with drama. I’ll talk to Alya. Maybe I can bake her cookies in apology for everything.”

 

Pink. “While you’re at it you should make Adrien some! They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!”

Red. “That’s a fine idea. It’s best to stay on good terms with our classmates.”

Yellow. “Friendships aren’t supposed to be business interactions, Duty!”

Green. “Don’t be stupid. No one likes accepting apology food- it’s that much harder to swallow.”

Purple. “I agree. It might make Alya feel like you’re buying her forgiveness.”

 

Marinette pouts to herself without any real gloom. “Ah, that’s right.”

Joy perks her right back up. “You can apologize, _then_ give her cookies on another day to celebrate!”

Disgust is quick to shut her down. “I wouldn’t be too comfortable with Alya. The way she’s been treating us has been really uncool. You should avoid staying friends with girls like that.”

Her voice becomes much softer spoken when Love speaks. “Have a little more faith, Disgust. We need to forgive more often, remember? Besides, we love Alya. Our relationship is worth the effort.”

Green. Disgust mutters, “We were still angry with her.”

“Anger is gone.” Joy chirps.

“Putting Anger to sleep doesn’t change the fact that Marinette hates liars and backstabbers. Our friends abandoned us the moment someone new came along with pretty words and empty promises. The moment they turned their backs on us we found out what they really think of us. To them we’re selfish, petty, and unreliable.”

“They’re being mislead.” Love argues, though weakly. “Lila’s the bad guy, here.”

“Lila wasn’t the one to put those words in their mouths that time.” Disgust spits back, then takes a deep breath. “Anyways. Even if we aren’t angry anymore doesn’t mean everything is resolved. It’s not very easy to repair a problem that’s been _deleted._ Just saying.”

Desire says snobbishly, “I didn’t hear any objections from you before.”

“What I’m _objecting_ to is going back to being everybody’s little bitch. Getting rid of Anger doesn’t have to mean getting our friends back. Getting rid of anger should mean _getting new friends._ We aren’t free of drama. Middle school is drama. I’m saying not to be too careless when we’ve gone through the motions of this already. And who knows if one of us start to go ballistic once she’s faced with another issue.”

Yellow eyes blink. “That would probably be you, Disgust!”

“You have a point. We have to make sure that your priorities are in order to avoid something like that... Marinette, are you listening?” Duty trails off when she notices the girl staring off into space with a grin, looking particularly _inspired_.

“Marinette?”

The girl just sighs dreamily in response. “I just thought of a present for Adrien’s sixty-secondth birthday.”

“This is hardly the time. You need to study.”

Pink eyes _sparkle_. “Oh, that’s a great idea!”

Duty’s voice is like chipped ice. “You can brainstorm on that _after_ your test. Focus, Marinette.”

“Right!”

Disgust barks in outrage from being ignored by everyone, and Joy giggles, “Looks like Love and Duty have the floor, for now.”

* * *

 

Alya knows that their teacher isn’t one to eavesdrop, especially on her students, having heard her express her opinion on the importance of privacy even at their young age. Though, she is the guardian their parents leave them all to for most of the school day, so she knows that the woman does have to stay somewhat tuned in to what goes on in the classroom, ready to intervene or provide guidance at any time. From where she sits at her desk grading papers before the first bell Alya knows that she can hear their every word, especially Chloé Bourgeois, who has a tendency to speak in grating volumes, and Alya can see how she tenses up whenever she seems to cross paths with Marinette.

It happens every other day, so no one is surprised by the little spats Chloé and Marinette share so often. But Alya has a keen eye when it comes to everything Marinette Dupain Cheng. She is a reporter...and her best friend, after all. Even if things are confusing at the moment. Even if Alya is currently doubting their relationship right now. Even if they had sat in silence the whole morning... Alya is a certified Marinette expert.

And that’s why she’s certain something is different the second Chloé walks in and up to their shared bench, looking the least sure of herself Alya has ever seen her and Marinette looking as cold as she had from the last time they’d gone out for ice cream with Lila. There’s several beats of awkward standing in silence, enough time to gain the attention of most of the room until Marinette acknowledges her. “What, Chloé?”

Alya is expecting some sort of short recap for why she’s bothering her again. Maybe she’s speaking to Adrien too much, maybe she’s here to tell her that her outfit is trash, or maybe she’s here to brag about her daddy somehow getting Jagged Stone as a resident at her hotel. Alya is expecting some sort of _context_ , which she isn’t granted. “You’re so spineless, lately. Don’t you normally have something annoyingly self righteous to say?”

The blonde has her chin turned up and away from the chinese girl, but she peeks from the corners of her eyes and says guiltily. “And here I thought you were finally getting good at sticking up for yourself. It’s normally not that hard for you to put people in their place. What I’m trying to say, I guess, is that if I was saying something out of line… or… or if I…You could have stopped me.”

Chloé finishes lamely, defeated and glaring at nothing in particular. The auburn-haired fourteen year old’s expression slackens, mouth open in a little ‘o’ as she watches on in disbelief.

Alya eyes her friend in her peripheral vision, not knowing whether or not it would be okay just yet to jump in or ask questions about what the hell is going on, or if she should really want to care. She notes the furrow in Marinette’s brow, and mentally prepares herself to break up a fight, at least. “So I could have. But don’t try to blame this on me. It’s not my fault you choose to say things that you know are hurtful.”

The room is quiet. Every pair of eyes are on the two, now. Marinette seems to take pity on the girl. “If you want forgiveness you can start by giving me a real apology, Chloé. You owe me a lot of those.”

Chloé huffs and avoids eye contact, but doesn’t say anything to correct her. The blonde scuffs an expensive heel at the ground. Excited whispers flit across the room when they hear her mumble something under her breath. Something like an apology.

Alya can see Bustier set aside her papers to watch in interest. Alix and Kim stop their hushed bickering. There’s a hand wrapping around her wrist that she can assume is Nino, asking her for answers she doesn’t have. Marinette’s eyes aren’t narrowed, her teeth aren’t clenched, her hands are rested calmly across her desk top. She isn’t angry, yet Alya reads her expression as nothing short of disdain. “What was that? Speak up a little.”

“I said I shouldn’t have said what I did. Ladybug would have been disappointed.”

The room gasps along with Alya when the dark-haired girl stands abruptly, and though Chloé is several inches taller than her she seems to shrink further into herself. “Ladybug isn’t here. You’re apologizing to _me_.”

Chloé attempts to feign nonchalance, but everyone can see her shifting eyes and her long fingers picking at the skin around her thumbnail, sacrificing her expensive manicure. She grumbles. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“A lot of things! Everything, okay _?_ ”

Marinette just hums in approval. Alya sees her eyes soften in a way that should have only been reserved for her friends. It irks her to no end, and she she thinks she might get sick when her supposed bestie takes Chloé in with a pair of arms wrapping around her like a baby octopus. It’s sickeningly cute, and Alya wants to pry them apart. The girl’s icy exterior is shattered with a giggle muffled into a yellow cardigan. Alya is sure that room is filled with pink bubbles, for a moment. The shorter girl is all smiles, and everyone is watching like it’s the end of their world. Her blue eyes shine deviously and she leans into the blonde, but seems to keep in mind who’s she talking to because she keeps her voice light and teasing. She pulls back, still smiling, but firm. “Not the most eloquent apology. But I accept.”Just so you know, you shouldn’t try to bully people into submission. It’s really shitty, and there are much more effective ways to make friends.”

Mlle. Bustier looks ready to interrupt them when Chloé shoves the asian girl back a little too hard. Alya resists lurching forwards to steady her, she who barely catches herself on her desk. “Ugh! Who said I want to be friends with you?”

“You did.” Marinette smirks knowingly, unfazed from the force of her push. “You told me to get friends with clear intentions. _Like you._ ”

Friends with clear intentions. She thinks she can get that from _Chloé ?_ And whoa, backtrack, when exactly did this conversation happen? To think that while she’s still moping over their fight, Marinette is off making friends with _Chloé_ _?_ Alya scowls and turns her head away, unable to stomach the god-awful scene she’s witnessing. She makes eyes contact with the teacher, briefly, and ignores the flashes of curiosity she sees there. 

“T-that’s not what-!” Chloé growls unintelligibly. “What is wrong with you! One day you’re all weepy and gross and now you’re- _gross!_ ”

She stomps a foot. “You freak!”

Alya is still facing the wall closest to the door, but she hears Bustier clear her throat excessively loud and this snaps the class’s attention away from the two. The teacher can’t seem to help the amused tug at the corner of her lips. “Mademoiselle Bourgeois, to your seat please. And Marinette? Please refrain from using words like ‘shitty’ in my classroom. Also, please stay behind a little after lecture.”

And just like that the students’ eyes are back on the dark-haired girl, probably wondering if she’s in trouble or why she had started missing so much class as of late. But she just smiles sweetly with an undeterred, “Oui, Madame!” and ignores their probing glances. But Alya doesn’t spare her any, only keeping her gaze trained ahead on the board until the lesson is enough to distract from this entire _display._

The rest of the lecture is painless enough- Bustier is as passionate as ever but it’s easy to tell that the lesson plan for the week is not one of her favorites. Marinette is writing diligently on her tablet, which is a relatively new development now that she doesn’t have _Alya_ as a distraction apparently, Alya thinks bitterly. So she is slumped and feeling glum, but Nino is just as distracted, turning around every now and then to not-so-discreetly place notes on her desk. The brunette flicks them back at him without reading them. As for their resident model boy, he stares out into space. The teacher calls to him- but no matter how many times she does his mind seems to drift again.

Alya ignores the blonde boy. She has her own things to worry about. Like Marinette and Chloé getting all friendly.

A ruse. It has to be a ruse. Marinette is upset with her and this is her nasty way of saying that she’ll even take someone as wicked as _Chloé_ over her as her revenge. Yet…

 _‘I was also really hurt by you.’_ Alya recalls her cold expression, but eyes glowing like a hot bunsen burner, barely-there tears pricking at their edges. Alya knows it can’t be right- there is absolutely _nothing_ right about this scene. And she wants to ask questions, she wants to know what’s gotten into her best friend. And she swears will get to the bottom of this.

 

But just for now, all Alya wants to do is be sad and angry.

* * *

 

Marinette figures that her homeroom teacher would start to worry about her at one point.

After all, more often than not these days the class president takes off on her own after lectures despite that her group of friends are known to be tight-knit. It might have been too hopeful to think that her doing very well at turning in her homework and getting to class on time at least- and actually staying awake throughout might put off the awkward little counseling session that awaits her. She’s hardly causing anyone trouble and has been improving on herself, and even improving her relationships with her nemesis. At this moment, Marinette believes she might even be at her healthiest.

More often than not she sees the woman’s spring teal eyes wander over to the mayor’s daughter, who’s brooding and no longer paying attention. It’s annoying.

Marinette gets the sneaking suspicion that Bustier has always thought that the two of them would be such good friends for each other. She doesn’t mind making new friends. She has room in her heart for more. Fixing Chloé and her problems isn’t her responsibility, and she knows Duty would second that if she consulted the mirror. She isn’t a professional therapist, and friends aren’t really meant to expect that sort of thing from each other, anyway. Not when she has her own healing to do.

But friends _can_ help shoulder your baggage. They _can_ listen to you. They can give you a nudge in the right direction if you _truly_ don’t know what you’re doing wrong. Marinette is willing to be there for her as moral support, if she’s so willing to change, and if it means Chloé finally coming to terms with her past (sometimes present) behavior. It also might finally provide Marinette closure and bring an end to those terrible years of bullying and being alone and insecure.

To Bustier, this must be a dream come true. Marinette holds in a heavy sigh.

Not soon enough, the bell rings and the only one left in the classroom is Marinette. She thinks she sees Adrien linger by the door for her before checking his bag for something, but eventually he leaves as well. Marinette looks to her teacher expectantly. “What did we need to talk about, Madame Bustier? Is something wrong?”

Madame Bustier is a well known and beloved teacher at her school- Marinette being one of her many admirers. Even in previous years attending the same classes as her peers, when she had been quiet and meek, the reputation of a lovely and kind teacher only served to encourage her to be the best she could manage to be so as not to let such a commendable person down. For a long while, Madame Bustier had been what Marinette had strived to be. And still, some part of her holds this fondness for her current professor.

Disgust obviously begs to differ. She frowns and tries to muffle her own thoughts to no avail.

“Ah, Marinette, your parents called in for you yesterday when you didn’t come to class after lunch break.” The woman leans back on her desk to regard her student with concern. “Are you feeling alright? You’ve had a lot of absences since last week.”

“I was sick.” Marinette answers easily, and she hopes it’s convincing and not at all apparent that Marinette doesn’t want to be there right now. She hopes her smile isn’t too stiff. “But I think I’m doing fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Did you need any help with the lessons you’ve missed? You know I post the class discussions online, right?” The redhead makes a move for her laptop on her desk only for the girl to stop her before she could reach it.

“Actually, I’m all caught up with everything! I studied a lot at home yesterday and went over things I didn’t understand in other classes, too.”

The teacher is taken aback, and Marinette wants to be smug. It’s like there is a little green devil perched on her shoulder. She’s barely able to hold back a sneer at the her, some looming, pent- up resentment willing her to act as brash and disrespectful towards the wonderful woman who has dedicated her life to watching and helping her and her peers grow into young adults. “Oh! That’s great!”

She’s able to reel this part of herself in, thankfully, trying to focus on the gratitude she has, but the other part of Marinette wants to berate her and her unfair loyalty to her childhood bully because of her sad upbringing and her sad sob story and her sad lack of friends. This part of the girl wants to reject Bustier’s apparent _concern_ for her because where the hell had that concern been when _Marinette_ was the one who was quiet and friendless? How dare this pathetic excuse for a teacher get so much praise for only doing her job when Chloé is involved and made to be a victim. Why does she give Chloé special treatment? Is it because she’s the mayor’s daughter? Or because Chloé is just _so sad_? How does that-

Marinette cuts her train of thought off. She is not angry- she quite literally doesn’t have it in her to be, but the hatred and disgust of her past grudges still remain. She needs to let this go. Bustier is kind. Bustier is selfless and only wants the best for people- even if she’s not always right. It’s not something Marinette wants to hold against her. The young girl beams at her. “Yup! But I’ll make sure to get my participation grade up before final exams. Is there anything else we need to talk about?”

“That should be all, you’re dismissed.” Her eyes are a little wider than normal. She nods, “Remember that you have a make up test to take in your sciences, though. Mme. Mendeleiev is also asking that you turn in your extra credit.”

“I’ll make sure to. Merci.” She bids her goodbye with a wave of her dainty hand, allowing herself to relax once she’s finally out of her sight.

“Marinette!” The girl catches the eyes of two classmates as soon as she’s out, however. Francois Dupont gives it’s students a seven minute interval to prepare for their next lesson, and it’s normally enough for a quick chat with peers. One’s body is petite and mostly adorned in pink and frills, while the other is wearing deeper, darker tones and black lace. Marinette is guilty when she feels revulsion roll in her stomach. These new feelings are confusing-- but they aren’t so hard to ignore. She just swallows them down, trying not to trouble herself with it. “Rose, Juleka, what’s up?”

The tiny blonde has both of her hands in a tight grip, bringing them closer to her heart, and just like that those ugly feelings are gone again, if for a moment. Her large, teardrop eyes are suddenly a little too dazzling to meet- Marinette has always had a weak spot for kitten eyes. She turns to Juleka in question, but the other just nods sullenly with a soft murmur she can’t decipher, hiding behind her hair.

Her mind becomes a bit scrambled and she has to really struggle to pay attention to what the two are telling her- something about an argument- but her heart is pulling her in two different directions. Part of her is clenching her hands so tight that her nails bite into her skin. The other part is flushed and frazzled and over the moon that they were talking to her so earnestly. Marinette gets a sudden urge to whisk her in her arms and spin her around. Rose is just so small and precious! They’re a bit puzzled when she has to ask them to repeat what they’re saying.

“Lunch,” Is all the purple haired one offers.

Her fists loosen and her lips part with amazement. The part of her that growls at their names diminishes. She feels all warm inside, her palms are tingling in Rose’s soft hold.

“Yup! With everyone else!” The blonde exclaims. She whirls around, eyes glimmering like in shoujo mangas, to ‘everyone else,’ who don’t nearly seem as welcoming. “I know things between us have been rough, but we really just want us all to get along! Right Lila?”

Lila’s smile is pretty, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Of course! Marinette is always welcome to join us.”

Ah, so she wasn’t invited before? Is that it? And to think she was going to bake cookies for them. Marinette wants to pull her hands away, again. She studies each of them, particularly Alya and her flat stare. Marinette thinks of nodding along to Lila’s tales, anytime deciding to speak up for herself being turned around to make her look like she’d done something mean spirited. Truthfully, she wants to be with them. She loves them. But Marinette also loves herself, and she is so tired of being made into the bad guy. So when Rose and Juleka look at her hopefully, asking her to join her friends again, she doesn’t want to say yes.

It appears that her silence says enough. Roses expression drops, and Marinette wants to wipe away the dew that gathers at the corners of her eyes. Before she can give them a proper rejection, Alya steals the moment away from her. “So since when are you friends with _Chloé?_ ”

Marinette winces. Lila grimaces.

“Chloé is a bully, Marinette.” The green-eyed girl squints at her. And she hates that half of the girls, plus Nino, behind them nod or study her warily. Alya squares her shoulders. “Rose, Jules. I think Marinette needs space. She obviously isn’t herself, right now.”

Marinette hates Alya’s judgmental glower. “Don’t speak for me, Alya.”

“You’re acting like a completely different person. I don’t like it.”

Marinette rolls her bluebells and turns to Rose and Juleka, she gives them a reassuring smile, hoping it’ll stop Rose’s tears. “I know where I’m not wanted. I’ll see you around, okay?”

As she turns her back on them, half of her wishes them well.

The other tells them to go to hell.

  

 

 

“Lunch with me? At your trashy little bakery?” Chloé squawks.

“Our bakery is one of the best and well-known in Paris. Plus, I still need to pay you back for last time.” She says. Her eyes flash dangerously. “But I won’t tolerate people who speak badly of my family.”

“Of course. That behavior is totally uncouth and beneath me.” Chloé gulps and turns an alarming crimson when Marinette arches a brow and crosses her arms, unenthused. Marinette finds it adorable, even if the other part of her seethes at the idea of another lunch with the spoiled girl. Chloé calls to the redhead that trails behind her obediently. “Sabrina! Tell them to cancel my--”

“Call and cancel the reservation yourself or you’re uninvited.” Marinette surprises the quiet girl waiting on the blonde with a grin. “Oh, and Sabrina is eating with us, too. As long as neither of you mind waiting for me to finish my test. It’ll only take me like, half an hour.”

“Pah! You’re so annoying!” The blonde scowls as she whips out her heavy looking phone and dials. When she brings the speaker up to her face she sticks a tongue out at her. “I hope you _fail_ your test.”

* * *

 

Tikki isn’t found in her backpack, either.  

Back in his own holder’s belongings once morning classes are finished, Plagg spews ancient curses under his breath. The little kitten phases through the pockets of the shoulder bag into the space containing Adrien’s phone and unlocks it, pulling up the month’s calendar and editing the schedule for tonight. He hits the ‘delete’ key several times.

“Plagg!” He hears a small hiss, muffled from the barriers of cloth between them. There’s some movement and rustling behind him and Plagg assumes that Adrien has checked the compartment he normally stays in. He flys out, phone in hand (arms?), knowing that the chosen wouldn’t normally try to speak with him if he has company in the room. The boy jerks back when he gets a face full of kwami, nearly thumping the back of his head against his locker door. He sighs in relief. “I thought I might’ve left you in Bustiers.’

Then the boy refocusses his sights on the phone, immediately sharpening. “What do you think you’re doing with that?”

“Clearing your schedule.” Plagg deadpans.

“What?” Adrien reaches for the phone but stops himself when he takes in the god’s stony expression. Plagg has no energy to laugh when the boy’s anger washes away for alarm, clearly intimidated. “What’s wrong?”

Plagg bites his tongue in exasperation, making sure he doesn’t say anything he shouldn’t. Tikki and Master Fu are very adamant about secret identities while their safety is still at large with Hawkmoth around, so he can’t go telling the boy that something is wrong with Ladybug because he can’t find Tikki in his classmate’s school bag and that he needs to get a better look at her and her home.

But then again, Tikki isn’t here.

He bites down harder, until it hurts. No, no-- Plagg has to be careful from now on. He can’t be spilling secrets unless the situation is dire. And while Tikki is MIA.

…But isn’t this already dire enough?

Chatter starts to fill the hall, and Plagg is forced back into his hiding place in Adrien’s shirt collar. The phone clatters to the ground. “Plagg!”

“Adrikins!”

Within moments, Plagg is choking on pungent, floral perfume. He breathes shallowly through the fabric of the shirt he’s hiding in, frustrated that it does nothing to filter the stench.“Why don’t you have lunch with _moi-_ I mean! _Us_ , today!”

“Us?”  

“Me and Marinette!”

His holder’s voice is doubtful. “You’re having lunch with Marinette?”

“Yes, I am.” The owner of the awful smell sounds proud.

“Willingly?” Adrien asks, flatly.

“Of course!” There’s an awkward pause, and Plagg can only imagine their facial expressions until the girl speaks again, “Well, we’re having lunch at Dupain-Chen- I mean! Marinette’s house!”

That gets Plagg’s attention.

“That makes more sense. Hey, Chloé about this morning…”

“Yes, Adribear?”

“...Never mind. It’s good you’re making friends. But I don’t think I can join you for--”

 

Plagg sinks his teeth into Adrien’s tan flesh.

“Ouch!”

“Adrien? Are you okay?”

“Yup! Just an _insect_ bite!” Plagg is nearly scared out of his hiding place when a hand _smacks_ at him under the shirt. He bites him again. “Ow!”

“I didn’t realize it was mosquito season.” A different, more reserved voice says.

The body is jostled and he wants to yowl when the smell becomes even closer. “So, Adrien! Lunch?”

“...I guess I have time. It’s not like I have anything planned.” Adrien probably doesn’t want to get bitten again, the little god thinks. “...Anymore, at least. But where’s Marinette?”

“She’s taking a test right now with Mendeleiev. She’ll be ready in thirty.”

His boy sighs, but he doesn’t sound disappointed at all. In fact, Plagg suspects the young boy might be slightly relieved to be free of his duties- despite the earful he’s sure to get once his father finds out he’s skipped out on his responsibilities. It had been nothing too important, just dejeuner at home and a quick meeting with his nutritionist, probably about all the cheese he’d been ordering online and like. Extra puberty appetite changes or something. “Alright, I can drop by for a few pastries. I’ll just have to text my bodyguard and Natalie.”

“But, Adrien.” Oh joy, a new voice. “Weren’t you going to have lunch with me today?”

Plagg isn’t yet so familiar with this one. She must be the new girl that had been stirring up trouble, but he doesn’t have all the details since he tends to nap through class and Adrien didn’t elaborate much on her, and he hadn’t asked him to, either. He doesn’t see much point in getting to know the classmates like Tikki might, but he is able to recognize certain patterns in humans. The jolt of Adrien’s body and uncomfortable stiffening of his back, the goosebumps that rise along his normally smooth skin tells him that this new girl has grabbed his arm, and that she obviously has made a habit of this, much like that Chloé friend of his.

His child shouldn’t have to deal with being touched when he doesn’t want to be. Plagg ought to have a talk with Adrien about these girls and how to be more assertive about his personal space. Or at least, so far it had only been girls save for that incident after that stupid cologne ad. It only makes him appreciate this Ladybug that much more. The baker’s girl had only ever laid a hand on Adrien when prompted to and even then is usually too flustered to do so. Nowadays with her lack of stuttering and fumbling, she still respects his boundaries.

He doesn’t know what it is about humans and their tendency to throw themselves at one another for affection. It doesn’t surprise him that this is the sort of behavior Adrien has picked up in pursuing his lady.

Huh. He’ll probably have to have a talk about that with Adrien, too.

“I don’t think we made plans together, Lila.” They most definitely hadn’t, considering that they had plans made by his father before today and that Plagg had only cleared their schedule now.

“Are you sure? Well, the more the merrier, right? It’s okay if you forgot.” Plagg can feel the annoying one leaning into the blonde’s whole body, and his furr stands on end. “Why don’t we all go to lunch today? Alya’s mother is the head chef at Chloé’s hotel and-”

“Ha! As if, Lie-la. You’re not invited, and you’re not welcome in Daddy’s hotel. I hardly doubt you’ll be welcome at Marinette’s, either.” He’s never liked the childhood-best-friend much, but he can’t have anyone interrupting their plans to go to the bakery where Tikki might be. He relaxes and hopes she’ll take care of the new girl.

“I know Marinette and I don’t get along, but that doesn’t mean that anyone has to take sides. Right, Adrien?”

“Uh... yeah, sure.” Plagg thinks he should be right to bite him again right now.

“I just can’t help but feel like you guys are leaving me out.”

“I was wondering when you would finally get a clue.”

“Chloé!"

“C’mon, Adrikins! You don’t even _like_ her!”

“C-Chloé, that’s a little--”

“You’re both being ridiculous. Get lost, Lila. Adrien, you can come once you’ve shaken off that leech.” The smell follows the fast footsteps away from them, and Plagg sinks his teeth into Adrien once he realizes that she’s _leaving without him_ \- dammit, Adrien!

“Ouch!”

“Adrien?"

Plagg snarls. _Stop wasting time._

“Listen, Lila. Can we just talk some other time?”

“Great! So you’ll have lunch with me tomorrow, promise?”

“Wait-”

“Have fun, Adrien! A bientôt!”

“Lila!”

Ooh, boy. Plagg really needs to have that talk with him.

* * *

 

 

The tinkle of the bell above their bakery door is as light as her heart when Marinette gets home, entering through the store to ask her parents for extra cute pastries to celebrate how happy she’s feeling about her test. Even Mendeleiev had been impressed with the time she had taken and the confidence in her answers. It had all went as planned, and Marinette feels she can breathe easy. Upon entry she immediately recognizes her mother’s small stature. “Bonjour, Maman!”

“Marinette.” Her mother smiles and she kisses her cheek. “Your friends are waiting for you in the living room.”

“Okay! Thank you! Can I get a few treats to bring up there, please?”

“Special day?”

“Hmm, well, it feels like a good one.”

Her maman seems glad, and loads up a tray with several choux, macarons, and a rather large apple tart that she has to take with two hands. Marinette feels pressured to stop her. Sabine shakes her head at her daughter. “Don’t worry about the price, dear. You’ve earned it, so go upstairs and feed your friends. Especially Adrien. That boy is so thin.”

“Adrien is here?” Her heart thrums.

Her maman just smiles knowingly.

Marinette should be a little more careful coming up the stairs and into her home, what with her clumsiness and all. She should have asked her father to help her, really. But at the thought of her adorable classmates waiting she nearly splatters cream puff filling all over their walls from how many times she stumbles in her hurry. It’s a struggle getting the door to her house open, and she has to hold the heavy tray in one arm.

 

(When did she get so strong?)

 

“I’m home!” She sing-songs the moment she swings the door open, kicking her flats off and rearranging them with her socked feet into their place against the wall.

 

And then she nearly drops the tray with the sight she’s met with when she turns around.

“Hey, Marinette!” Adrien is as radiant as ever and coming to greet her at the door, but Marinette is too shocked to notice. Sabrina and Chloé are settled on the cream couch in front of the television. Her breath is caught in her throat, horrified eyes zero in and switch between all of their feet when they all stand and walk towards her _dragging their them all over their rug!_ “I hope your test went well. Do you need help with that?”

The gorgeous boy steps forwards to take the food out of her arms. Marinette can’t help her words becoming more and more stilted, mouth pulled into a tight line. “P-please take your shoes off and leave them by the door!"

“..Huh?” All three teens look at each other in confusion before Adrien’s eyes widen in realization. “Oh shoot! Sorry, Marinette!”

He’s the first to comply, and Marinette breathes a sigh of relief at the neat row of flats and sneakers by the entrance. She sets the tray on the counter. “Okay! I finished pretty early, so we have a lot of time to just relax and eat. I was thinking we can study or do homework after until break is over?”

Chloé offers a noncommittal shrug while Sabrina bounces on the balls of her feet. “Do we need to set the table?”

“The table’s kinda small. My parents won’t mind if we eat in front of the TV.” Marinette beams. “And they gave us extra desert!”

Though Chloé makes a fuss about eating without a table like peasant at first, Adrien looks like he’s having a blast surrounded by friends and good food. Sabrina looks at Marinette warily from time to time, but her mood brightens when she sits next to her and offers both her and Adrien bites of different samples, being a good hostess by being attentive towards everyone and offering drinks or seconds. She wants to squeal every time the blonde model gets embarrassed over being fed by someone else, even just by a few bites.

“I’ll take another serving if that’s okay,” he says.

“You got it, hot stuff!” Marinette winks over her shoulder as she heads to the kitchen. She hears his airy laughter, but she doesn’t see the way his ears redden, or the way the girls’ jaws drop. When she comes back she sets down his food and takes her place back by Sabrina, Adrien chewing happily and Chloé scrolling through her social media feed. “Ugh. There’s only been footage of Chat Noir this week.”

Marinette asks, “What do you have against Chat Noir?”

“He isn’t _Ladybug_. That’s what I have against him.”

Marinette is about to protest- she’s always had a soft spot for Chat Noir- but Adrien says, “Ladybug hasn’t been seen in days. I hope everything is okay with her.”

Adrien’s shoulders sag a little, and he’s stopped eating. Marinette is thoughtful for a moment. She did not know this. Maybe she doesn’t follow the Ladyblog as closely as she should. But Paris can manage a few days without one of its heroes, though the new knowledge does nag incessantly at the back of her mind, now. In the meantime, she comforts Adrien by taking his shoulder into a soft squeeze. “I’m sure Ladybug is fine. On the bright side, there hasn’t been any akumas lately, right?”

She picks up his fork to feed him another bite of his dessert. He takes it gratefully while Chloé glares at them. Adrien says between bites, “Y’know, she could be on another one of her secret missions. At least, I hope so.”

Marinette freezes with a hand midway to his mouth. She doesn’t notice him pout and then lean forward to take the next bite between his lips. “Huh. Secret mission? What makes you think that?"

 

(Où est Ladybug?)

 

Adrien swallows and starts to explain. “When Nathaniel was akumatized into Evillustator Ladybug left it up to Chat Noir to take care of the akuma while she was away on a secret mission. You were there, remember?”

“Huh. I guess I was?” Marinette is having a hard time recollecting that day. Marinette’s memory seems unreliable. She doesn’t remember being intimidated into the date with Evillustrator, so why had she agreed? “I was supposed to be working on a project with Sabrina but then the akuma asked me out on a date. I guess I couldn’t find a way out of it.”

 

(Où est Ladybug?)

 

“I mean. I was there. I was working with Chat Noir to try and get the pen away from him. But I failed. But…” Marinette’s brows draw tighter together as she studies the blonde next to her. Adrien stiffens, as if realizing a terrible mistake.

“...But if it was just me and Chat Noir, how did you…?”

She’s interrupted by Sabrina tackling her into a hug. “Ohmigod! Marinette, you were on a secret mission with Chat Noir and that’s why you had no choice but to bail on me! I’m so sorry!”

Sabrina looks at her with new light in her eyes. “You really are a great friend! You’re nothing like Chloé!”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, Chloé!”

Marinette pats the strawberry blonde as she hugs her tight, all the while locking with nervous green eyes from behind her back. She doesn’t know what reasons he could have to be ill at ease, but she finds that she herself is having a hard time relaxing.

 

(Où est Ladybug?)

 

“Marinette!” She snaps her gaze away from his to the voice of her mother rapping her knuckles against the wall. She and Sabrina separate, the other girl smiling cheerfully at her. “Once you guys are done you should bring your friends up to your room, okay? Papa and I want to watch the news.”

“Oui, Maman.”

 

(Où est Ladybug?)

* * *

 

For a brief moment, Adrien considers his environment, and thinks it could all be the cause of an akuma.

He knows he’s acting insane. The paranoia of being without his Lady for the past few days Lady starting to mount on him. Adrien takes a long sip of his lemonade. It’s like he’s in some alternate reality- one where Chloé has not one, but a whole clique of friends and where she’s not clinging to Adrien and she’s not ordering Sabrina around, and where three of the most unlikely people get to bask in the love of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Marinette doesn’t dislike him, he knows that. They’re even considered very good friends, but he’s noticed that she doesn’t express herself as freely as she does with others. But today, even with Sabrina and Chloé, she’s openly affectionate and is able to look him in the eyes when she smiles. She’d even _fed_ him. She had been so close enough for him to notice the smattering of freckles across her nose, and she had smelled like milk chocolate.

Adrien feels warm. He’s almost able to forget the whole reason he’s here in the first place.

Which is very bad, Adrien reminds himself as they climb the stairs into Marinette’s room, because Plagg had been very urgent about getting here. He discreetly checks down his shirt for the kwami, and riffles through the contents of his bag when he doesn’t find him there. He comes up empty, and he grows embarrassed at the thought that he could very well be eating away at all of the Dupain-Cheng’s storage without their knowledge, or snooping through Marinette’s things again.

When they get through the trap door, he surveys the room for his kwami, thinking of the various places he might be hiding. He flushes at the sight of all of her posters of him. How can she fall asleep with so many of his faces staring at her?

Oh _hell_ , Plagg had better not be in her bed. Stinky little monster.

 

 _Whap!_ Adrien jumps at the noise.

“What the hell, Dupain-Cheng!”

“S-spider.” Marinette swallows hard, and she looks like she might collapse. He sets his own bag down and takes hers so she won’t drop anything, putting them down on her chaise.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh.” Marinette says dumbly. Adrien crosses the room for her, and is honestly proud that Chloé is only pretending to gag at the gentle way he reaches to caress her face instead of getting between them. He lets a palm lightly brush over her large forehead. “You look pale.”

“Ew.” She whimpers. And Adrien takes his hand back like he’d been scalded. “ _Ew!_ ”

She holds out the hand that, apparently, she’d used to squash the spider, and he understands, (somewhat relived). “Oh.”

She whines, and takes off back down the stairs and to the nearest sink. _“Ew, ew, ew!”_

The three of them are left in her room. Chloé explodes into boisterous guffaws.

“Marinette has been acting a little different.” Adrien says softly now that the girl is out of hearing range, “I mean I like it. But should we be worried?”

She _hmphs_ with a toss of her hair. “Hardly. Sabrina, don’t you remember how the class used to be before Marinette grew a pair and started defending them? They were dirt beneath my heel. They either followed me or stayed scared of me because I have Daddy. That’s how they were and how they _still_ are. Different might be what Marinette needs. It only seems to me that she’s finally come to her senses.”

“Yes, Chloé.” says Sabrina.

“You can’t just say things like that.” Adrien rolls his eyes. “I thought you were trying to be nice now.”

She sits down on the pink polka dot chaise, twirling with her silken locks between her fingers. “What, and you’ll let Lila just say whatever she wants? What’s this about a personal chef I hear? And her Tinnitus? And her saving Jagged Stone’s cat? And knowing Prince Ali? Puh-lease, Adrien.”

Adrien decides to bite his tongue, knowing he doesn’t have a good rebuttal.

* * *

 

The first reason why Marinette has to leave the room is because she has spider guts decorating her palm.

The second is that there’s muffled screaming coming from her purse. She wants to take it out to stop her, probably Disgust, but she refuses to move away from the sink until her hands are scrubbed raw and achy with hot water and microbead soap. She pats them dry on a towel and finishes with a spritz of rubbing alcohol once she’s deemed herself clean enough. Only then does she take out the compact with quaking fingers.

There’s a gasp. “Oh no, Marinette. Your hands!”

Marinette holds up her knuckles to inspect the chapped, dried skin she finds there. Her poor hands are worn and scaly, looking ready to crack and bleed in some places. Oh. That. Marinette hadn’t even noticed that. “I-I wash them pretty often. And I gardened and then cleaned my room the other day. It must have really dried them out.”

She unzips her side bag and digs around for a moment. She pulls out a pink tube of hand cream, all while Love nags her. “You shouldn’t let them get this way! Especially for an artist like you, your hands are very important!”

She nods vigorously along but then she unscrews the cap and Marinette recoils at the strong smell of flowers, stomach turning. “Um, it’s okay! I can get some lotion from my mother’s bathroom right now!”

Joy notes, “You really have been conscious of cleanliness lately, Marinette.”

Disgust spits, "Tell me about it. Your nails look like they could fall off.”

“You’re over exaggerating. And if anything this is your doing.” Duty says, “But you really should be careful. Don’t dry them out too much or you’ll get cuts that can get infected.”

And from all the commotion, none of them notice that they have one absent.

* * *

 

 

_**…(** _

 

A deep voice asks in her head, “How are You any closer to defeating Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

“It’s all a work in progress, Hawkmoth. But before I take any more steps, I have a proposition for you. Or. More like a threat, if don’t listen to me.”

“You’re not in any position to make any demands.”

“I believe that’s my line.“ She hovers over the sleeping body at her feet, poking at a shoulder with the point of her shoes. She sighs, “Look at her. Don’t we look much more beautiful like this? She’s so… serene.”

“Get on with it.”

“Fine. Well. Marinette, even if a little unstable, is in a good place right now.” Too good. She concludes that she may have eliminated them in the wrong order. But really. As long as Love is still around, she supposes whatever she’d chosen first would have had the same result. She studies the sleeping girl laying in front of her, grey eyes hiding behind pearly eyelids and full lashes. She’s curled into a fetal position, not unlike how a wild dog might to shield its most vital parts from lurking predators. “If I wanted, I could just let her live like this. I can leave them all alone and trash this whole operation. Marinette can be happy with good friends,  good grades, and a good future ahead of her. Paris will have no more akumas.”

Hawkmoth is quiet.

“It’s come to my attention that going after Ladybug and Chat Noir would only mean following the normal repetitive episode of luring them out and being defeated at the end of the day.” She sits on her butt next to Gloom’s slumbering body, tracing little patterns down the girl’s spine. “I want time.”

“I’ve given you enough time.”

“No. I’m here for now only because I’m stuck here. But once I get my body I want time to enjoy it. The whole purpose I was akumatized in the first place. You said you would give me what I want in return for my help. So you need to hold up your end of the bargain. I’d like to take things slow so that I can work while having my fun. Then, and only then, will I carry out our plans.”

“I don’t even know your plans, how can I trust you?”

“You’ll just have to. If I get any sort of resistance— if you try to control me at any moment— I’ll just reverse this whole thing and put myself back in here, where the akuma will be trapped for the rest of Marinette’s life. You’ll never wreak havoc on Paris again.”

“You’ll be trapped, too.”

Desire moves to caress her sister’s cheek, thinking of the chaos that would follow upon waking her.

 

“If I don’t get what I want I’ll make sure you don’t, either. It’s your choice.”

_**)...** _

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Man, I am so tired of you dumping on me. And I am so tired of dumping on myself.”
> 
> \-- Danny; “My brother’s Keeper” (Danny Phantom, season 1, episode 9)
> 
> End scene: https://sternsneeze.tumblr.com/post/184819446757/she-sighs-look-at-her-dont-we-look-much-more 
> 
>  
> 
> I appreciate your comments :) Please let me know of any questions you might have and I’ll answer them as long as it doesn’t spoil any future chapters.
> 
> My tumblr is @sternsneeze, if anyone would like to follow. I'm thinking of making some simple doodles for this story.


	10. Sprout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does it cross your mind to be slightly sorry?  
> Do you even care that you might be wrong?  
> Was it fun? Well I hope you had a blast while you dragged me along
> 
> You say what you need to say, and you play who you need to play  
> And if somebody's in your way, crush them and leave them behind  
> Well I guess if I'm not of use go ahead, you can cut me loose
> 
> I'll shut my mouth and I'll let you go  
> I'll just sit back while you run the show
> 
> \-- "Good For You" Dear Evan Hansen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Active emotions:  
> Duty  
> Joy  
> Disgust  
> Desire  
> Love  
> ?
> 
> Welcome back and thank you for waiting :) I apologize for any typos or errors you find-- there are bound to be a lot.
> 
> I would like to say that in this story most of Lila's manipulation happens out of sight. If you do want one of those Lila salt scenes, I'm sorry to say that I'm not really in the mood to write one because I've read so many I don't think I could come up with anything original for it. If you want a scene like that- just read one of the many Chameleon salt fics we've got on this site, and you get the gist of what's happening in the classroom.

Adrien has shut himself in the Dupain-Chengs’ bathroom before they’re meant to leave back for school. Plagg has already beat him there, phasing through the small medicine cabinet to greet him with a sour look on his face. He doesn’t think he’s ever going to get used to seeing Plagg in a bad mood unrelated to cheese. “Well? Did you find what you were looking for? Why did you have me come here?”

“Yeahhhh.” Plagg drawls. “I’m gonna need you to drop by later tonight.”

“What, _here?_ ”

“Yes. Here. As Chat Noir.”

“Why?”

“Something’s wrong with your girlfriend.”

“Marinette?! Is she okay?” Plagg notes he’s too preoccupied to correct him on the little ‘girlfriend’ bit.

“Calm down kid, I just need to check on something with her, and then I’ll know for sure. Has she hit her head or been in any accidents? Something physically or emotionally traumatizing? Been in any contact with suspicious folks? Or has her memory been faulty?”

Adrien pales. “No… not that I know of… Plagg, you’re scaring me. Please, tell me what’s wrong with her.”

“Listen, I just need a good look at her, which I can only get through Chat Noir’s eyes. It could just be false alarm.” No need to worry the kid if it really is nothing. And he really prays that it is nothing. Plagg feels his stomach churn nervously despite the careless front he keeps up.

“Plagg, no! I need to know this! This- this is _Marinette!_ She’s the sweetest, kindest, most amazing girl in the world! I need to know if she’s in danger!”

 

Yeesh.

 

Plagg doesn’t really care for lying. He’ll do it in a heartbeat- it almost comes naturally to him. But then he thinks back to the day of Syren when Paris was underwater and had almost lost it’s Chat Noir, and he decides to tread carefully. He needs to give Adrien something, something enough to distract him but keep him satisfied. “Marinette is someone we need to keep safe. If I sense even the slightest difference in her behavior I need to report it to the Master, because she is candidate for the next Guardian of the Miraculous.”

It’s unconfirmed. But it’s part of the truth-- something that might satisfy his holder. Tikki will kill him if she finds out what he’s told him, and Ladybug will have to keep becoming The Guardian, should she choose to be, from Chat Noir in the future to preserve her other identity. But this is necessary in order to keep Adrien from demanding other answers that might reveal her as Marinette.

Except, his holder doesn’t look any better than he’d of expected him to once let in on a big secret. Instead the blonde is stock-still, peridot eyes blown wide. It worries Plagg. “C’mon kid! I thought you would have been happy! One of your good friends will know the secrets of the miraculous! You _maybe_ might even be able to reveal your identity to her in the future. She’ll be part of the team.”

“Marinette... as the guardian?” Adrien whispers, and his sun-kissed cheeks start to lose more color. “When did that happen? How did they even meet?”

“Why does that upset you?” Plagg rolls his eyes, “Are you jealous? I’ll have you know Master Fu considered you an option, too.”

“I’m scared out of my mind! Marinette is a civilian! What is Fu thinking bringing her into this?”

“That’s _Master_ Fu, to you.” Plagg teases him, and grasps at straws for his next move. He really had expected Adrien to be more enthusiastic about this- this could reap an unexpected outcome. “You were a civilian too, weren’t you? And Master Fu will only choose those who are worthy. Pigtails will be able to handle it. I don’t see what you have to fear.”

That, and Adrien is still unaware that Marinette Dupain-Cheng is hardly just a civilian.

“Ladybug and I learned from the Backwarder that Hawkmoth knows that there’s a guardian in Paris. He’s already looking for him.”

“All the more reason to find a new one. The Master is old. He can’t move like he used to, and no one knows how much time he has left.”

“And that, too, Plagg! You’ve seen Master Fu. He’s old and _alone_ , and Ladybug told me about how his whole life revolves around the miraculous. How is Marinette going to become a fashion designer if she’s in hiding!” Adrien shakes his head, “Master Fu _can’t_ pick Marinette. It’ll ruin her life. I have to tell her.”

Oh, no. Plagg might have done something bad here. He’ll have to fix this real quick before things get out of hand. The cat flies in front of his nose to stop him from exiting the bathroom. “I think you need me to remind you that she hasn’t been chosen yet and telling her anything will compromise your identity.”

“I don’t care.” Adrien says, firmly. “This is a mistake. I can’t let it happen to her.”

 _“You don’t care.”_ Plagg parrots, mockingly. “The only mistake here is giving you information you obviously aren’t ready to handle! This is classified. I haven’t even told you whether or not Marinette knows anything herself, yet! ”

Actually. Ladybug knows more about the Guardian’s duties than Chat Noir. Supposedly, she is meant to know much more because she consults him from time to time during akuma attacks, and she might even visit him in her own free time, for all Plagg knows. Of the two of the superheroes, Marinette is more informed about the miraculous.

But Plagg doesn’t like the way she’d reacted to Ladybug’s “disappearance.”

He might not know Tikki’s chosen as well as his own, but even if no one as suspected her as her alter ego, he knows that that girl is not the smoothest operator. Not with her words, at least. She would have clammed up or even worked harder to reassure them that Ladybug is okay, somehow. But she didn’t, as she acted like she was the one in the dark and openly contemplated on her encounter with Chat Noir and the Evillustrator. Anyone can argue that her cluelessness on the matter is her alibi.

Plagg begs to differ. That’s playing it a little _too_ dumb. That is unless she really had become that good of an actress in the short few days she’s been off duty.

 

Or unless she actually is clueless. Meaning she isn’t Ladybug. Meaning she doesn’t have the earrings, and felt no need to report to the Master.

 

That’s why he’d asked about her possibly being concussed or under some sort of memory erasing spell-- maybe the earrings have been found and stolen from right under her nose. He didn’t find anything in her house. Tikki could be lost to them.  

“Calm your head.” Plagg isn’t sure if he’s talking to himself or Adrien, but the boy’s hunched shoulders relax and he says nothing, glaring daggers into Plagg’s small body.

“Ultimately, it’s not your decision-- and let me finish!” Plagg shouts when he sees the boy’s mouth open again to argue. “She’s a candidate, but it’s not set in stone. Mariette’s future is her decision to make, and whether she’s going to dedicate her life to fashion or the Miraculous, everything will be her choice. She’s allowed to say no. Got it?”

Adrien’s expression starts to clear, so Plagg continues.

“Furthermore--” ugh. He hates when he has to get serious, but _damn it Adrien work with him!_ \--“I’ve been telling you from the start that something seems _wrong_ with your friend. She could be under an enchantment, or even an akuma. It could be anything. That’s why I need you to be my eyes. You have to visit her as Chat Noir so that I can look at her directly without having to hide, and so I can inform Master Fu if it turns out something is wrong. This really is all I can reveal to you right now. I wish I could tell ya’ more, but I just can’t.”

Adrien looks guilty. “I understand.”

“Good boy. So check on her tonight. Don’t breathe a word about the miraculous or any secret identities.”

“Yes sir.” Adrien sarcastically murmurs, exasperated, and finally exits the restroom. Plagg safely nestles himself inside of his bag and goes over his thoughts again. In another circumstance Plagg might approach the girl directly and demand to know about Tikki and the earrings’ whereabouts. But he doesn’t yet know what exactly he’s dealing with. Marinette had seemed genuinely confused about Ladybug’s inactivity-- so if it turns out she’s under some sort of memory loss magic, Plagg might be revealing pretty dangerous information, and his existence.

And if she’s under a spell, Plagg thinks in disdain, it’s Hawkmoth’s doing if anyone.

* * *

 

...(“What’s the point of Anger if I have Disgust?”

Desire walks along the edge of La Seine, listening intently to the conversation between Marinette and her ‘sisters’. From time to time she’ll contribute by leaning just over the side to look into her reflection and offer her two cents, but this is a discussion she wants to sit out on in favor of her own thoughts.

Duty’s voice echoes all around, and she can picture the girl hunched over their desk, working, only pausing to quickly shine her reflection upon their _portable_ to speak, and check the time. As if time matters in this world.  Red. “We emotions can be very similar at times. Like I said before-- we influence each other and we overlap. Most of the time Disgust and Anger go hand in hand. You might find that in a given moment they feel the same.”

It’s almost like a two way call, except there are what? Eight of them? To speak through the compact Marinette has with her, and to each other when they’re not together, all they need is a reflection in any form.

She can imagine Disgust examining her pores in their bathroom mirror, speaking as she resists the urge to prick and squeeze at the imperfections the way Desire likes to. Green. “Yes. But you know, I’m more important. Anger never thinks clearly by herself. She’s irrational. A lot of times I’m the one who has to remind her why she’s angry in the first place. You really didn’t need her.”

“That’s unnecessary, Disgust.” Duty scolds her. “The reason we seem so similar sometimes is that we’re all parts of a whole. We’re you. Fractured, but whole.”

There’s a sudden peal of laughter, and Desire knows Joy is probably enjoying the sun in the park by their home, gazing into her own sunshine eyes squinting from holding back laughter through the shallow water of the fountain there. Yellow. “Pffffffft.”

Red. “What?”

Joy breaks into loud guffaws. Marinette should be home by this time, and Desire wonders if the girl is forced to muffle the sound under a cushion lest one of her parents hear.

“What? I don’t understand.”

Joy is still seems to be falling over herself in her laughter. “Nice one! Fractured _but whole_!”

“Gross. Real mature, Joy.”

“Aw, Disgust! We should be used to puns by now!”

 

**Her brows pull together in confusion.**

**(Puns. Puns. Puns? She’s used to puns because of…**

 

**Who?)**

 

“-Papa adores puns!”

“He enjoys dad jokes. Because he’s a dad. Marinette, Duty was saying something important here before this ding dong ruined it all.”

Desire decides to walk in the direction of home, letting them bicker.

The walk home is boring, but it’s very short. See, the mirror world is made up of the way Marinette and her emotions perceive it. Things they might not pay attention to in passing aren’t very detailed here. Objects or places with many surrounding feelings are more memorable. This world is sensitive to details like touch, sound, smell, taste, and color. Marinette has always been observant, and imaginative. It makes Desire’s stroll to their home short and mundane, but pleasant.

 

It’s rather lonely, though. Being stuck in your own mind.

 

Through Marinette’s ears and eyes she can see her mother preparing dinner in the next room over. But here in the mirror world, when Desire pushes through the bakery doors, hears that little bell above her head tinkle, there is no one there to greet her and kiss both cheeks.

“Oh! You’re home! Come sit down, I made cookies.” Well, at least no one but herself. Love finishes arranging the pastries in front (for whatever reason- it’s not like they’re in business) and ushers her towards the back to sit down.

Desire sighs and forces a smile. “Are cookies and clothes all you ever make?”

“I love fashion and I love baking.” Love chirps back and pushes a chocolate cookie into her hands. “Go on and eat.”

The purple-eyed one takes a small bite just to make her happy. “You realize you don’t even have to go through the grueling process of making them, right? Just imagine a cake and a crop top and poof. Instant sweets. Instant clothes.”

“I like the process. Besides, it’s not like we have much else to do here.” Love murmurs, her soft pink eyes are earnest. “I don’t have to get the ingredients right, either. I just have to have the concept of making them in my mind.”

“And yet you only make chocolate chip cookies and passion fruit macarons.”

She looks sheepish. “Well sometimes I mean to make other things but it’s what I remember the taste of the most. Kind of overpowers whatever else I’m trying to make. I can’t help but feel like someone important to us loves chocolate chip. But I can’t remember who.”

“A lot of people like chocolate chip. What about the macarons?”

“Adrien loves passionfruit. It’s hard not to think about.”

Desire knows it all too well. Ever since she’s gotten her akuma, she hasn’t been the same, but she remembers the pining, the overwhelming need to please Adrien Agreste. Of course she still might want him-- she’s Desire, afterall. But it’s not quite the same anymore. Not important to her like it was before. “It’s always for Adrien, isn’t it? Always for someone else.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’re so forgiving, you know? Our friends could literally or figuratively throw us under the bus and we’d still be there with a plate of apology cookies the next day.”

“...We love them.” Love says, simply. It makes Desire want to throttle her. She opts to stuff her cookie in her mouth to keep from saying anything. Love gets defensive. “And Adrien never threw us under the bus, even if he could’ve done a little more… but I guess you’re right.”

The purple one looks up at Love, who’s starting to get more unsure of herself. “I love them, so I should let them learn. That’s probably why Marinette wouldn’t eat lunch with our old friends, and why she invited Chloé out instead. As Love I’m easily blinded, so it’s good she has the rest of us.”

“She didn’t really want to hang out with Chloé that much.” Desire adds. Love just chuckles and shakes her head.

“Yeah, she- we didn’t, but Marinette sees potential in her, and even cares for her no matter if she denies it. It’s good to give people a chance.” Desire takes a hard swallow.

“Right.” If anyone were to actually ask her for once, Desire would say that no, Chloé didn’t deserve yet another chance.

“I’m happy you’re here. Seriously, the others won’t even eat my cookies no matter how much I offer.” Love pouts. “Duty is busy, Disgust rejected me, and Joy-- well she’d have some but she’s always out and about. And a good chunk of us are gone. Have you seen the others? Anger and Fear are asleep at school, Gloom is knocked out on the balcony…”

“...Desire? Did you hear me?” Love asks her, after she had been babbling on about the others and their antics for a while only to realize she wasn’t being listened to. She has reached a warm hand out and onto Desire’s shoulder. The other girl tries not to glare and kick her a away. “Is something the matter?”

“Just… it’s unbelievable. And really irritating.” The pink-eyed girl is startled by the hate that brews in Desire’s eyes despite her amused smile. “She gets rid of nearly half of her emotions and she still won’t listen to me.”

Love frowns, “Desire, Marinette might act on her own, but we do influence her decisions. Technically, we are her. We might all want different things, but all that really matters is that she’s happy and healthy.”

“You think that what I want won’t make her happy or healthy?”

“I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth.” There’s a tight set to Love’s jaw that wasn’t there before. “But I do think that you’re being selfish right now.”

“Are we not allowed to be?” Desire snaps, “I can admit that I… _Marinette_ wants to spend her energy on the people she loves. But she also wants to put herself first. She chooses you over me time and time again out of obligation.”

 

Amethyst eyes darken and her voice is low and chilled, mocking, “That’s what you are, Love. An obligation.”

 

“ _True_ love is never about obligations!” Love looks upset, table jostled from when she slams her hands down. The cookies have gone cold. “What about you, huh? What is Desire without love? Without me you’re shallow and insatiable. You take and you take and it’s never enough!”

She stands from the table and leaves the room, taking the plate of cookies with her. Desire laughs at the ridiculousness of it.

**_)..._ **

* * *

 

“I thought I got rid of sadness and anxiety?” Marinette’s hands are getting sweaty underneath the thick gardening gloves she has on, but she’ll be sorry if she takes them off to dig in the dirt. She’s just going to have to deal with it. She makes idle conversation with her mirror to distract herself from the gross feeling.

“Emotions start to blend the closer they are in their objectives and needs. Constantly rejecting your loved ones hurts you, too. You care about them. You want to please them. And since you’ve gotten rid of a few of the other feelings, your love is only stronger.” Love supplies from the little compact. “It’s kind of like a... phantom pain, I guess you should call it. It’s gone but you feel the ghost of what’s supposed to be there.”

Marinette absentmindedly uproots the thick trunk of her plant to transfer it into a smaller waiting pot. “So if I got rid of Joy, and Adrien asked me out right after, how do you think I would feel?”

“If you still have me around, then you’d want to say yes. I can’t say it would be a fulfilling relationship, though.” Pink eyes turn flat. “But say you got rid of me, Love, and Adrien asked you out. You’d feel Joy and Desire, but it would be short-lived and it would end quicker than you think.”

Marinette is nodding in understanding, but another interjects, spitting, “It’s not quite that simple, _Love_. People can still enjoy a relationship without being in love with their partner.”

“Oh, sure Desire, but can you have a relationship without _compassion_? Can you have a healthy relationship without caring for one another?” Love challenges. “I’m what gives Marinette compassion. You don’t have that without me.”

“I don’t?”

“Nope. _None_.”

Marinette sees yellow flash in her peripherals. “Love, did something happen? You seem kind of tense.”

Love doesn’t answer.

Red. “Your bedtime is soon. Are you almost finished?”

Green. “Are you still digging around in the dirt? You can talk to me when you’re done.”

There’s a sigh. “-I don’t see why you’re so invested in these plants, but I guess they _are_ our responsibility. Just don’t plant any more. They’re already a hand full.”

“I want to see them grow.” Marinette says. “Okay, another question, why does dirt freak me out so much if I got rid of anxiety?”

“You might be mistaking your disgust for fear.”

 

There’s a _thunk_ behind her. Marinette scrambles to hide the compact.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your phone call. I can sit quietly.” To her surprise Chat Noir is the one waiting behind her, black cat ears perked up in her direction and seated quite elegantly in her chaise, like he’s posing for a painting. Marinette almost snorts.

“No, it’s okay. We were about done anyway.” She stands and brushes dirt off of her clothes, thinking about how she’s going to bleach the hell out of them. Chat’s eyes glow green in the dim lighting of her stringed paper lanterns. “Wow, I didn’t even realize it was already this dark out.”

“I guess you were enjoying yourself.” Chat muses. He looks at her up and down, and studies her face closely. Marinette can’t quite meet his gaze, wondering if he even really knows how to be subtle. She has no idea what business a superhero has on her roof, and she thinks if Fear was still around she would have cried from the the pressure.

“Yeah…” She feels rather awkward under his intense gaze. “So what brings you here?”

“No reason. Thought I might explore the town on my own, since M’lady hasn’t been around.” He seems sad for just a moment and Marinette can’t think of a way to comfort him because he’s already grinning and back in her face the next moment “May I ask what you’ve been up to?”

“Well,” Marinette’s hands are covered in soil, so she can’t brush her hair behind her ear like she always does. “My mom says it’s good to water my plants at night, when the sun can’t dehydrate them.”

“Your garden is beautiful. I guess you can say it’s really _fleur_ -ishing!”

She giggles. Chat Noir might lay on the charm thick but she still finds pride in the compliment. Her garden is bursting with colors, at least one shade of every color of the rainbow finding home on her balcony. She brings one of her tired hands to finger at a blooming red rose. Chat hovers close by to inspect a basket of tiny yellow blossoms, and to move a watering can set precariously on the railing somewhere safer. “Some of them are a little high maintenance, but it’s worth it to watch them grow into something beautiful.”

Chat Noir smiles fondly at her and then gestures to the mess she has on her floor. One of her plants is bursting out of its pot, with other smaller, soil filled pots surrounding it. It looks like Marinette has been hard at work for a while. “And how about this, what were you doing here?”

“These are jade plants.”

“They’re cute, but you have quite a lot of it..”

“Yep! My mom told me it’s supposed to be for good luck, abundance, growth, and prosperity. And it’s still growing. There wasn’t always this much.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Keeping it all is crowding the pot. I don’t know if it’s healthy. It’s also getting too heavy-- starting to bend and lose the shape in some its branches even after I trim them.”

“So what are you doing with it?”

“I’m trying to decide. I could cut most of its branches off and throw them away, or I could separate sections of them into smaller pots to grow on their own. But then my balcony will be completely overrun with jade plants.”

“Cut them off? Won’t that kill it?”

“No. Jade plants are a succulent. They don’t need that much to survive.” Marinette smiles. “They’re resilient little things.”

“I guess I need to brush up on my plant knowledge.” Chat Noir comments.

She hums in response, “You know maybe I can put them in cute pots and give a small one to each of my friends.”

“That would be so cool!” She’s glad he loves the idea, but she can’t help but laugh at how eager he looks-- eyes shining brilliantly. “As long as I get to keep one!”

“Of course, Kitty.”

 

**(Kitty?)**

 

“I’m just wondering if the others would even appreciate it.”

Chat frowns. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“We haven’t been agreeing lately. And you remember Chloé, right?”

“Queen Bee? I don’t think I could forget.”

“Yeah, I can't see her being thankful for my gift.”

“You would give one to Chloé?”

When it comes to Chloé, not all of her feelings are all that great, but they aren’t all negative. She thinks if the right people believe in her she’ll be encouraged to change, just as Bustier says. It’s not her job, but it’s her choice. She does not owe her childhood bully forgiveness, but maybe it will be good for both of them to put their past heartache aside and be what they need to be for each other. “... I guess I would. I’m not sure of what we have right now, but I think friendship isn’t _too_ far off. But I also don’t think we’re at that stage of accepting gifts from each other without our pride getting in the way.”

“And what’s with your other friends? Wanna talk about it?”

“It’s… just normal school drama.” Marinette shrugs. “Misunderstandings. There’s a girl in my class manipulating my friends, and when I try to stop her I end up looking like the bad guy. It’s tiring, and I’ve discovered recently that they don’t have as much faith in me as they should. I can admit my faults, but they have to, too.”

Chat Noir is looking at her sadly, and she hopes it isn’t from pity. “Maybe you should talk to them. And if they won’t listen, then I don’t think anyone should blame you for wanting to give up on them.”

“Oh, no! I don’t plan on giving up on them. I love them! I just need some space.” She gives him a shy smile, and laughs. “One of these days Lila might do something stupid to reveal herself, anyways. For a liar, you would think she’d think of more believable stories. Yet she has the whole class wrapped around her finger.”

Marinette motions for him to sit since it seems like their conversation has gone on for a bit. The boy in leather makes himself comfortable while she sheds her dirty gloves to join him on the chaise. He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Hey, aren’t you in the same class as that one teen model? The face of Gabriel Agreste’s line. I saw you two on Twitter that one time running around Paris to escape his fans.”

Her heart beat picks up a little. “Adrien!”

“Yeah! That guy! You’re friends, right?”

Marinette looks away. “Yes. Actually, I’ve been taking the high road because of him, even though I don’t really want to. I can see _why_ he would think it’s best but...”

“But?”

“Lila’s a _predator_. She doesn’t just lie for attention. She uses people to her benefit. And she touches him without his consent and makes him uncomfortable. She threatened to take my friends away and leave me alone. Part of me really hated Adrien for telling me not to do anything. I thought he was a coward, but I didn’t want to admit it.”

“Wait, back up, she threatened you? Why didn’t you tell him this?” Chat takes her by her shoulders, eyes wide and full of fury. “You could have made him understand! That Lila was hurting you… Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Is it my fault for not saying anything? I guess I’ve been stupid,” she whispers.

Chat shakes his head vigorously to deny her. “Don’t say that! The stupid ones are the people who fell for her. And Adrien is a coward. Please don’t _ever_ call yourself stupid.”

“You’re right, but I also didn’t tell him and so he doesn’t deserve the blame for that.” Marinette says. “I’ve always been weak to him, I guess. I love him.”

 

 

It’s quiet, now that the words are out there. It lingers in the air between them, and Marinette observes how Chat Noir’s face, once pinched in emotion, slackens and then completely smooths over, going pink at his cheek bones. His mouth drops open. “Y-you…?”

“Yes?”

“You love Adrien?”

“Yes.”

“But… I thought you loved… me?”

“Huh?” That confuses her. Why would he think she loved him? She’s only talked to Chat Noir on some occasions.

- _Oh_. No! There was that one time she’d ‘confessed’ to him. He should have taken it as her being a fan, but still, she is unsure of why she had said it in the first place. “Don’t worry, Chaton! I’m still your biggest fan!”

“I-I… thank you.” The boy practically melts before her.

“Of course.” What a strange reaction. She doesn’t really know what to do with the boy-turned-putty. They sit in silence, Chat Noir staring at her in wonder and the brunette squirming for something to say.The cat-eared hero finally clears his throat and gets up.

“Anyways...this place really does look amazing, you must have worked hard on it.”

“And I do have a lot of work to do tonight. Maybe you can come by some other time?”

“So you’re kicking me out.” Chat Noir pouts, and Marinette wonders if everyone realizes what a big dork this boy is. He cries out dramatically. “I guess this is goodbye, then.”

“None of that! You’re always free to visit tomorrow, when this place isn’t full of dirt. I’ll make sure to have some fresh pastries for you.”

Marinette has reached to caress his face so that he stop his pitiful charade, and giggles at the shock and deep blush that crosses his face. A giddy smile worms its way back onto his features, and she thinks he resembles more a puppy than a cat. He reaches for her hand to hold close to his heart, gazing deep into her eyes like he’s looking into her soul.

“Until next time, little lady. Please take care of yourself, and stay safe.” Marinette hasn’t done anything to warrant that sort of precious look from her hero, and for a moment Marinette can’t help but wonder if he knows her outside of his mask. He leaps from her roof railing and she watches him bound away until she can’t distinguish him from the night sky.

* * *

 

“But what was he doing _on our balcony?_ ” Marinette doesn’t know why it’s such a big deal to Desire, but she seems very upset with her. It was such a short visit, too. “What did he want from you?”

“Nothing! He probably just saw me and passed by to check on me.”

“Did he see you talking to us?”

“Yes, but he thought it was phone call. Is it really so bad for Chat Noir find out?  If there’s anyone who will know what this is, it’s him, right?”

Desire pauses, mulling her answer over before speaking again slowly as if explaining to a younger child. “Marinette, think about it like this. When you hold this compact in your hands it’s like you’re holding your own mind. It’s all of you. If anyone, even Ladybug or Chat Noir, finds out about the magic this has, they can take the mirror away from you without knowing exactly what it does! You don’t know what could happen to you.”

“Okay! I get it. No telling Chat Noir or Ladybug.”

“No telling _anyone_!” Desire commands.

* * *

 

_**...(** _

Desire is chilled to her bones after Chat Noir’s visit. Why is he checking on her? Did he suspect anything?

Ladybug might be missing, but there have been no akumas! So why is Chat Noir already on her ass?

Desire tries to calm down and think clearly. Is there anything he could have connected her to? Surely not the lack of akumas-- no one could possibly know that they have anything to do with that. Hell, not even _Marinette_ knows. And they have no interaction with Ladybug, and next to no interaction with Chat Noir.

Marinette has only interacted with her family and those of her class so _why?_

 

Red. “It might have excited you, but it really is time to sleep now, Marinette. Chat Noir was probably bored and saw you as someone to talk to while on patrol. Next time, you shouldn’t let him use you as an excuse to slack off.”

 

Okay. It’s fine. Chat Noir stopped by on an impulse. It didn’t mean anything. But if it did mean something and his visit was planned, this could be very important to her. Because the only way for someone to know that something has changed within Marinette is for them to be someone close enough to her to actually witness the change. That, or someone tipped her off to him. The latter wouldn’t be good news to her. This is a disaster.

 

Yellow. “But a superhero visited _us!_ A civilian! Who wouldn’t get excited? Oh, if only Alya could know!”

 

Hawkmoth more or less agreed to her deal, so she can take the time she needs to plan. First things first: getting out of here. Desire will have to be careful to keep Marinette on the down low, which will be difficult the more emotions she gets rid of. There will be a noticeable change in her attitude, no matter what Desire does next. She’ll just have to hope she’s wrong and Chat Noir doesn’t know her as a civilian.

 

Green. “Dial it down Joy. You’re too noisy. Duty is right, he was probably bored.”

 

Or, she could hope that Chat Noir does, because if he does know her as a civilian, well, that could work in her favor, too. If she finishes off the others fast enough, maybe as soon as she takes over she can regather herself and fix whatever damage Marinette has done to her image while unstable. By then, Chat Noir will be investigating or trying to catch her in his civilian identity-- all she’ll have to do is keep an eye out for anyone butting a little too much into her business. Then, it’ll all be a matter of who catches who first.

 

Pink. There comes a dreamy sigh. “You can’t possibly have something against Chat Noir, Desire! He’s so sweet, and a hero deserves a treat, right? But we _should_ respect his privacy and keep his visit a secret.”

 

Besides, wouldn’t it look really bad for Chat Noir to accuse an innocent civilian of being an akuma?

 

“Oh no, _please_ don’t tell me we’re crushing on Chat Noir.  _Please_.” Disgust begs.

 

And by the time he even gets proof or confirmation, it’ll already have been too late.

 

“A bit of fangirling won’t hurt, right?” Joy giggles.

“Don’t worry! That boy is a handsome tomcat, but we have Adrien.” Love reassures. “Speaking of which, don’t you think it would be a good time to confess? You guys have been friends for a while, it would be nice for him to finally know your true feelings.”

And who knows, maybe he doesn’t even suspect its an akuma? Maybe he’s just worried and really wanted to check on her. A simple visit shouldn’t have freaked her out. When she gets out she’ll still have time to explore her powers.

“We’re gonna confess?!” Joy gasps.

 

Bah! They’re so noisy!

**_)..._ **

* * *

 

Marinette gets a withering scowl from purple irises in her mirror. “If you want to confess, confess already, dammit. But I know for a fact that all you really want to do right now is sleep.”

“ _Thank you_ , Desire.” Duty quips. “You heard her. You really should sleep or you’ll regret it in the morning.”

“Lights out, Marinette.” Disgust says.

“Okay, fine. I’ll think of what to say tomorrow.” Marinette surrenders with a smile. “Good night everyone!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Excuse me, um...  
> I love you!  
> I know that's not the way to start a conversation, trouble  
> I watch them other girls when they come and bug you  
> But I felt like I knew you, so I just wanted to hug you  
> Is this real?"
> 
> \-- "R.E.M" by Ariana Grande
> 
> .  
> .  
> .
> 
> So, since I’ve asked for your star signs… What Hogwarts houses do you all belong in?  
> No one’s asked, but I’m in Slytherin.
> 
> Again, please feel free to ask questions or point out plot holes so that I may answer/fill them. Thank you so much for reading


	11. Seedling, Bud, Bloom, Prune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette's life is going through a lot of changes- good ones! She thinks.

  
_"I love you"_  
_Who starts a conversation like that? Nobody, but I do_  
_But you are not a picture, I can't cut you up and hide you_  
_I'll get you out my mind--I tried to_  
_But I just want to stand and yell_  
_I will never dare to tell_  
_Think I heard some wedding bells, shh, keep it to yourself_  
_Is this real?_

_\--“R.E.M” by Ariana Grande_

 

  
**11.1 : Seedling**

 

Chloé likes gold and diamonds and jewels, and she’s never accepted anything less.

So when Marinette had handed her this plain and ugly pot of plant and _dirt_ , begrudgingly, but blushing, her first instinct was to chuck it.

“What the hell is this?” she’d scowled.

And the other girl had withdrawn, just a little, before getting this determined little pout and shoving the plant into the blonde’s chest. “Think of it as a peace offering. I wasn’t going to, at first, but I just had too many of them. So I thought of giving some of these out to my friends.”

“If this is some kind of prank or pity-” Chloé squawked, and she’d held the plant at arm distance, peeved. Marinette had almost gotten dirt on her favorite cardigan, after all.

“I want to be friends with you, Chloé, honest. No tricks!” then Marinette grabbed one of her hands and gazed at her with giant doe eyes.

She’d kept the plant.

It was mostly out of pity. So they aren’t really friends.

Never mind that the pot Marinette used, a peachy pink one with cartoon ladybugs and bees, is pretty and is certainly hand-painted. Or that the little pink blossoms the plant grows in clusters are cute, too. The stupid thing still sticks out like a sore thumb against the lavish walls of her hotel suite. If Marinette thinks something like this is enough as a peace offering, she must not know Chloé well enough to be her friend, anyway.

Never mind that she’d immediately googled how to best take care of it. Or that in the short time she’s had with it she remembers to water it just a little bit every morning and night, taking care to keep the soil just slightly damp for the hot days. Or that she had screamed at the maid for over watering it one night when she’d been out of the room. Never mind that she’d spent the rest of her evening on her balcony fretting over the drowned roots, before finding out that the plant itself is quite resilient. Or that she often wonders how Pollen would have loved the plant. Or that when Marinette hangs out in her room for the first time, she feels a rush of pride when she’d cooed at how healthy it looks.

Never mind any of that, Chloé insists. The damned plant is still the ugliest little thing she’s ever treasured.

 

 

 _"If only you could know/the things I long to say_  
_If only I could tell you/what I wish I could convey_  
_It's in my every glance/my heart's an open book_  
_You'd see it all at once/if only you would look_  
_If only you could glimpse the feeling that I feel_  
_If only you would notice what I'm dying to reveal_  
_The dreams I can't declare, the needs I can't deny_  
_You'd understand them all if only you would try"_

\- “If Only” _The Little Mermaid Broadway_  

 

 

**11.2 : Bud**

 

One afternoon Marinette finds herself comfortable in none other than Chloé’s Bourgeois’ hotel suite, seated at the nearest window to do their class reading, which she’s put off in favor of other subjects she might struggle more in. Her room is full of garish colors, much like her wardrobe, but it’s large and full of light and sweet-smelling. Sabrina is gushing about a big sale at one of her regular cosmetic stores and her makeup haul- a rare treat from her father- and the disarray all of the products had been in probably long before she’d arrived. Chloé at first seems unimpressed, but quickly gets sucked into the narrative and cackles about ‘dumb poor people’ when Sabrina gets excited about all of the other customers she’d had to fight off. One boy had apparently gotten his way by smashing up the packaging of a lip kit, just to ward off his competitors by being forced to pay for the damaged product himself.

“How dare they!”

Both Marinette and Chloé cry in unison, and then turn to stare at each other in astonishment.

And then lose themselves to a fit of giggles.

Marinette is still laughing until Sabrina nears her with a thin brush and her new shadow pallet in her hands. “Please? Chloé never lets me do her makeup!”

“You want me to cosplay with you guys?” she asks, making no effort to conceal any objections she might have. The cat-eared redhead is looking hopefully at her. “You’re not going to put blue eyeshadow on me are you?”

“No, because that’s _my_ look.” Chloé butts in, shoving her friend to the side. Marinette gives her reproachful glare.

Chloé must have gotten her warning, because she helps Sabrina pick herself back up, glad that the shadow doesn’t leave any stains on Chloé’s plush rug.

Sabrina smiles gratefully. “Merci, Chloé!”

Chloé preens. “De rie--”

“She shoved you. She shouldn’t be rewarded for basic human decency, especially when she was the one who pushed you down in the first place. What if you got hurt? Or what if she ruined the eyeshadow?”

Chloé flushes red. “You’re lecturing us again? God, you’re so lame. I can’t believe I even invited you.”

Marinette is poker-faced. “I don’t want to sit here and watch Sabrina get manipulated and abused anymore.”

Chloé shuts her mouth. Marinette’s nose scrunches and she sighs. “Listen, I’m not going to coddle you. Everyone should praise you for progress- because it really is something to be proud of. But I don’t think Sabrina should thank you for getting the respect she has deserved from the beginning...Does that make sense?”

Chloé pouts, crossing her arms and looking away while dressed as Ladybug, and Marinette is reminded of the times she’s had to watch over a grumpy Manon or Noel. She goes a little weak, and tries to lighten up. The dark-haired girl gestures to the little jade plant she has potted near her windows. “Speaking of progress, I didn’t think you’d take care of it so well. Thank you.”

Against the glamour of her room it looks awkward and quaint, but the deep green of its leaves shows it’s healthy. Chloé sneers at her. “I’m not the one who takes care of it. It must of been the maid.”

“But I was surprised you didn’t throw it away. It made me happy.”

When Chloé finally meets her eyes, her expression melts into something much more vulnerable. She takes in Marinette’s warm complexion and bluebell eyes and finds herself unwinding her arms to play with her thumbs. “It’s not like I actually care about it. I just thought…”

Marinette grins giddily up at her, and Chloé wonders why her own eyes can’t be as big and big and expressive as Marinette’s are. She grumbles.

 

“...I just think it’s kind of cute.”

* * *

 

He’s tired, in body and mind, and her house is cozy from the warmth and the aromas that must be rising up from the bakery downstairs. Adrien finds solace in the quiet calm of her room, after a long day of dodging Lila all throughout the school day, dodging his bodyguard so that he could enjoy the peaceful stroll home for once, dodging his fans on that peaceful stroll home, and Plagg dodging his questions after finally visiting Master Fu.

Adrien ponders on the conversation, lips pulled into a tight grimace.

Plagg and the Master had engaged in a heated argument, all of it in an ancient tongue so that Adrien couldn’t listen in. But he knew that Plagg had left the massage parlor angry, and himself made restless with the turn of events. It’d taken everything within him to leave it alone and stand to the side as the two had disputed. When they’d gotten home the cat kwami had immediately retreated into his trash can.

“Plagg?” he’d approached the bin warily. “What did Fu say?”

The cat kwami was muttering to himself. “Stupid old man and his old ways. Listen kid, the only thing I'm allowed to say is that Ladybug is caught up in something else. She can’t help us with this one. But neither her or the earrings are missing, so at least we don’t have to worry about that.”

Adrien’s stomach plummeted through the floor. “Does this still have something to do with Marinette?”

Plagg made a point of shoving a whole wedge of camembert into his mouth so that he couldn’t answer.

 

“Chat Noir?”

That had brought him here.

 _Keep a close eye on her,_ Plagg had ordered him once again. _Look for anything strange or suspicious._

 

Adrien shakes the memory away, and he’s back in Marinette’s room. The girl in question smiles at him, a plate of fresh baked goods in her arms, as promised from his last visit to her balcony. The sight grounds him, and he’s able to lose himself again in her welcoming home.

Marinette has quite a lot- too many pictures of him in her room and _wow_ , he muses, he really has been blind to her. He’s occupied with gaping at the embarrassing collage of him and magenta, swirly hearts she has as her computer desktop when his ears pick up the sound of porcelain meeting wood. To his left Marinette stands, with the plate of cookies and a cheeky grin that wasn’t there before set down on her desk. He reaches for a treat, only for her to push the plate away. “Aw. I’m sorry, but kittens can’t have chocolate.”

He leans in close and ignores the thrill in his chest from the short distance between their faces, eyes glinting mischievously. Marinette rolls her eyes, but there’s the slight pull at the corner of her pink lips. “That’s okay, Princess. You’re a sweet enough treat for me already.”

Marinette flushes red and her whole body shakes from the force of her laughter, shoving him away by his chest. “You’re ridiculous!”

“Have you been spending time with Queen Bee, lately?” he knows she has.

Marinette shakes her head fondly and grows a wicked smirk, one he strangely feels like he’s very familiar with, even though it’s an expression he’s never seen her use before.

“Utterly ridiculous.”

Whatever _is_ up with Marinette, as concerned as he is for her well being, he questions if it’s really all that bad. Who could ever see this smile, and hear this laughter, and feel this tenderness, and see it as something bad?

 

_How come when she looks at me it seems like time stops moving?_

_What is it about her that's so wonderfully, impossibly familiar?_  
_Why do I feel dizzy in a way I've only felt but once before?_

 

 

**11.3: Bloom**

  
It might be dangerous for his heart to spend so much time with someone who has confessed to falling in love with him twice, both sides of his identity. Especially when that someone is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, with eyes that twinkle with jewels finer than ones his father can buy and lips as lush as the prized roses his mother would grow in the mansion’s garden. Marinette might be one of the most beautiful girls he has ever seen.

It makes his heart ache.

Adrien knows what it’s like to be alone. The thought of beautiful, gentle Marinette alone in Fu’s secluded medicine shop, after the man has passed, the only company for her to keep a box of ancient artifacts- it makes him ache. It gives Adrien a new resolve.

He would never leave this girl to be alone.

It’s conflicting, what with her feelings for him and all. And his feelings for Ladybug. But if the miraculous needs Marinette’s protection, the best he can do is offer Marinette his. He’s Chat Noir, and if she ends up being the guardian he would stay by her side. Like a partner- like what he and Ladybug has, just without the feelings. Romantic feelings. Only friendly feelings. Adrien finishes off one last bite of his food with a plan to have a serious talk with Ladybug as soon as she’s back from wherever she is.

...A serious talk with Ladybug. About Marinette. He swallows and his stomach flip-flops.

“Would you like seconds?” She serves him with a pair of tongs after making her rounds around the class, passing out samples from her parent’s bakery. Adrien gives her what he thinks is just a polite smile and says yes, to which she beams and bounces down the step in front of him. Nino elbows his side after the brunette places another apple tart on his desk and leaves. He chuckles, “Dude? You good?”

“What?”

“Why’re you looking at her like that?”

“Like what?”

Nino shakes his head and to Adrien’s annoyance, turns around to snigger about whatever it was to Alya.

He thinks he has become sick of people not answering his questions.

* * *

 

Chloé is used to grande gestures and expensive gifts from her parents, mostly to compensate for what their love for her might lack. She isn’t used to noticing the little things, mostly because she’s come to the understanding that she is deserving of so much more.

Yet, it’s these little things that Marinette does that makes her falter in her old habits and entitlement. Like…how their usual spats have turned into banter, or inside jokes and meaningful looks across the room if she finds something someone does idiotic (very often.) and shared bites of food when the chinese girl brings too much for lunch ( _suspiciously_ often.) There are all these worthless little things that Chloé has come to value above all else, just these little things she’s never realized she’s always wanted despite having everything.

She might not have been able to call it love before, considering just who Chloé was and is to Marinette, but the look in the other girl’s eyes is always so caring, warm and real-- but alien, a look that she never gets from anyone else in her life.

Past Chloé would hate this because she doesn’t have experience with love. She doesn’t know how to handle what it’s like to love and be loved in return. And to be on the receiving end of this love, from the girl she had tormented no less, is so… infuriating.

Or. It should be.

Past Chloé might have immediately assumed that it’s not love but pity, pity like the looks she gets from Bustier when she thinks she isn’t paying attention. But present Chloé is comfortable and stuffed full of warm food that had been prepared with love. She still isn’t sure of what to make of what has been happening between her and her “nemesis” but at least she isn’t upset.

She’s… content, actually.

 

  
_“If ‘I love you’ was a promise_  
_Would you break it, if you're honest?”_

 

  
**11.4: Prune**

  
In her eyes there is no right way to love, but she often wishes she knew how to do it differently, a little more healthily. The type of love Marinette is used to is relentless, resilient, warm, but all-consuming. Selfless, sacrificing, and exhausting. When she loves, it leaves room for little else.

With the little mirror, it no longer has to be that way. Marinette is allowed to love freely, painlessly. Without fear or anger or sadness.

And they make it so easy-- how can she not be so preoccupied with them when Adrien’s eyes glint so bright a green when she brings samples from home? When Chloé had gotten so flustered over finally exchanging phone numbers? When Sabrina squeals with unbridled joy when Marinette asks her to model her designs? When her mother smiles fondly while recounting her conversations with their regulars at the store? When her father’s hearty laughter makes the whole room thrum? Marinette’s mind is overloaded enough that she barely makes enough time for herself to finish her responsibilities at night.

“Hey girl.”

Marinette’s adoring thoughts screech to a halt.

Alya. She’s greatly surprised at the sight of downcast amber eyes, the faintest of flushes along her dark, full cheeks, heart shaped lips puckered into an awkward, weak expression that looks rather out of place on the normally bold girl. She is not at all intimidated, but her skin buzzes with nerves after not having spoken to her in the past couple of days, as if every cell in her body is begging her to lunge forwards and envelope her friend in a hug so that she won’t make that face anymore. “Hi, Alya”

Alya shuffles awkwardly. “Wanna have lunch with me today? Please? My treat.”

She blinks up at her best friend.

Accept her, comfort her, love her. _Reject her brutally. Stomp on her heart._

She snuffs that part of herself out completely.

“Aw, no thank you. I have plans today already!” Marinette smiles good-naturedly, taking her friend’s hand and refusing to recoil at roll in her stomach at the touch. “You go have fun with Lila.”

She says it almost reluctantly, almost unable to curb a snarl that wants to rip from her throat at the name, yet she flicks her pigtails over her back and turns away to leave without a second glance in the other’s direction, knowing how she’ll cave if she does. Later that night her darling parents comment on how Marinette seems to be helping out in the kitchen with them more in the past few days, and when they ask if her classmates had enjoyed the samples she shrugs and steers the conversation away.

* * *

 

Plagg doesn’t understand Fu’s ways.

Ha. Wayzz.

Ugh. Adrien and his atrocious humor.

He knows that Master Fu is a good guardian, but he’s also a romantic at heart.

So Plagg thinks that all the secret identity shenanigans are just some way for the old man, a failure in his own love life, to get a kick out of watching these kids pointlessly, painfully pine after one another. It’s his own personal soap opera.

That’s why he’d left in Adrien’s bag that night, still cursing the old man out for his stupid traditions. Plagg had insisted on telling Adrien who Ladybug was-- it would make things easier to explain, make it easier to figure out what to do next if Adrien has all the information. But noooo, Fu orders him to stay quiet-- an identity reveal would put them all in danger!

“They’re already in danger, _dipshit_ ,” He’d lashed in an ancient tongue.

Ooh, the Master hadn’t taken too kindly to that response. Heh.

Plagg might just be on his own for now, but he refuses to become stagnant. In his trash bin, he furiously rips at some scratch paper Adrien has tossed after doing his homework with his teeth and he reviews what he knows.

Hawkmoth is inactive. Ladybug is missing. Tikki is missing. Marinette isn’t, and seems blissfully unaware. Chat Noir’s visit has confirmed that the earrings are safe and sound. Marinette’s memory has been altered- but that’s just a speculation. It could be that she's caught up in something she doesn't feel safe going to Fu for. Maybe she is being black mailed. But if Marinette is akumatized, which is most likely over anything else, it doesn't make much sense if she hasn't been actively been seeking out Chat Noir. She's seems unaware that she is Ladybug and that she's carrying a miraculous already. She hasn't done anything to Adrien during his visits to her balcony, but he does not yet completely know if she is hostile and if it is safe to approach her about it, or what her akumatized object is. He has to find some way to prove that without risking revealing anyone’s secrets. He pokes his head out of the trash to observe the steady rise and fall of Adrien’s slumbering body, and he wonders.

 

How might Marinette react to seeing a kwami?

 

  
_Hands getting cold_  
_Losing feeling, is getting old_  
_Was I made from a broken mold?_

 

 

**12: Wither**

  
**(**

She recalls scathing looks and harsh words exchanged over closely drawn speakers.

Far, far away, a place where no one can reach her. Limbs like lead and trapped in her head, fighting an unseen force for control over her own body.

that foreign _something_ bubbling in her stomach like acid

Like flames licking at the roof of her mouth

Or like something thick clumping, swelling beneath her skin and oozing out her pores.

The push and pull of awareness and oblivion.

She had only wanted to enjoy herself for once. Only wanted to have fun with everyone. Only wanted a few more minutes to just breathe.

 _You treasure those close to you. You have so much love to give,_  
_Your most trusted friends have revealed their_

 _true feelings_  
_towards you._

 _They doubt you._  
_They hurt you._

 _It isn’t fair that your efforts are never appreciated._  
_If they cannot recognize what you do for love, should they really deserve it?_  
_You only do good for others and for what? People keep forcing these terrible feelings onto you._

She hates that they do this to her. She hates how they always make her feel. She hates this.

Calm down. Breathe. Calm down. Breathe, _breathe_

She had wanted to tell them she’s heard everything they’ve said about her. She had wanted to tell them they were hypocrites. She had wanted to scream at them. She had wanted to cry. She had wanted to tell them everything. She wanted to run away she wanted to curl up in her mother’s arms she wanted someone, anyone to listen to her for once she wanted to be better- _god, she’s being pathetic._

_Marinette wants to laugh. She wants to tug at her pigtails. She wants to complain, wants to yell, wants to stomp her feet like a child, wants to tear into something, she wants to disappear._

bubbles in her chest, hot and tight  
quaking shoulders  
Eyes bleary, glazed over

_a luminous purple_

 

Marinette!

 

the call of someone very important to her.

She had just wanted to rest.

 

Marinette!

 

 

 

_find a solution._

**)**

 

  
She wakes with a start and a heavy breath.

She lays there, confused, only a faint memory of the nightmare.

She remembers the feeling of suffocating, and feeling sad, angry, and alone.

 

Marinette had gotten rid of her needs of any of those things, she reassures herself. She rolls over back on her side, re-tucking her cold feet into her blankets and closing her eyes again.

Such thoughts, she thinks behind the darkness of her eyelids, though puzzling and mildly uncomfortable, hardly bother her. Really, all Marinette can really care about is doting on her lovely family and friends. Maman will prepare petit dejeuner in the morning, and more food to take to her classmates for school. She’ll see Chloé, Sabrina, and Adrien, and help out in the bakery in the afternoon before finishing her studies.

Her head cleared of past heartaches and the colors of the rainbow, she is lulled back to sleep.

 

 _"And I've been getting tired of these letters_  
_I see you writing on the walls_  
_And I've been walking though my own disaster_  
_Thinking it's time to move on_

 _Here I lay_  
_In my bed with everything I hate_  
 _Dreaming of a distant place_  
 _But I'm half way gone"_

_-"Candlelight," Zhavia Ward_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha…. I got caught up in writing another AU for ML it took a lot of time away from work on this one. Please excuse my slacking off  
> ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ  
> I had a lot of trouble with this chapter so that also added to the long break. I'm considering adding more to it, but then again I really am just trying to get to the parts I'm more enthusiastic to write more quickly... 
> 
> Anyways welcome back :) and thank you for any comments-- I highly encourage them because. Well.They make me happy and also let me know if the story is being received the way I want it to. 
> 
> I guess I should ask another question?  
> What do you guys think is the earliest memory you can think of? I think mine was asking my nanny when my birthday was at around age three, turning four. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and see you all again soon ^^
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: ahhh.... and I forgot to include a small part for this chapter. Okay. When the next chapter is up, ya'll might wanna quickly reread this one so I can include it <(．＿．)>


End file.
